An Orphan Tale
by am4ever
Summary: What is more important than the life and love an innocent child?
1. Chapter 1

_This is a story I started as a sequel to Uncertainty...but not I have rewritten quite a bit to include some information detailed in At All Costs. _

_I hope you enjoy! Please let me know your thoughts on this first chapter :) _

* * *

_**An Orphan Tale**_

_***April, 1926***_

_**Friday Afternoon**_

"Good afternoon, milady," Mead said, opening the large front door of Cavenham to allow Isobel Grey entrance to her home. The elderly butler smiled kindly to the seemingly exhausted Lady Merton. He could easily deduce it had been another stressful day at the local orphanage.

"Good afternoon, Mead. Is His Lordship back from London?" she asked, allowing the Butler to take her coat and gloves.

"Yes, milady. He and Sir Timothy are just in the drawing room."

"Fine, thank you," she said softly, nodding to the Butler and heading in the direction of the drawing room. Truth be told, she was exhausted. The emotional toll of each orphan's sad story was beginning to wear on her. She had hoped that a few weeks away over the Easter holiday would help to replenish her energy, but she'd had no such luck to this point.

"Ah, Isobel, there you are darling," Dickie said, standing to cross and greet her at the drawing room door. He had been gone the past two days, dealing with some investors in London. He had met with Timothy who had accompanied him home for the weekend.

Dickie took her arm, kissed her cheek and smiled warmly. "I have missed you," he whispered quietly, leading her over to greet her step-son.

Timothy stood and kissed Isobel's cheek as well. "It is good to see you, Isobel. Busy day?"

"Yes, quite," she replied, taking the tea cup the footman offered her and sitting down on the settee. "How was your journey back?"

"Uneventful…just the way we like it," Timothy answered, chuckling and sitting across from her in an arm chair. Dickie remained standing, taking a sip from his tea cup and analyzing his wife silently. While she and Timothy engaged in light conversation about what the latest news in London was, Dickie took the time to evaluate Isobel's features and movements.

He could not help but worry while he was away. They had gone on holiday over a month before but upon returning, she became quite fatigued over the smallest tasks. He was concerned that the doctor's diagnosis a few months before did not tell the whole story.

He smiled when she caught his eye, catching her subtle wink in his direction before she turned back to listen to Timothy's latest business venture. Dickie wished he could believe that the doctor was correct…that Isobel's headaches, fatigue and other symptoms were simply due to overwhelming stress and the laws of aging. He wondered before if he should call Isobel's old friend, Dr. Clarkson, for a consultation. But, then he had been required at meetings in London on and off the past month. Timing, therefore, was not on his side.

"I think I will go get some letters written before dinner. Are we expecting anyone tonight, Father?" Timothy asked, standing and handing his tea cup to the young footman.

"No, not this evening," Dickie answered, smiling to his wife. "Isobel granted us an evening of reprieve after a few long days of meetings."

Isobel's cheeks tinged pink, looking away from her husband's affectionate gaze. Timothy chuckled and gently squeezed Isobel's shoulder.

"Thank you, Isobel. It is much appreciated after dealing with so many stuffed shirts."

Isobel nodded to her stepson as he left the drawing room, letting them both know he'd see them in a few hours. Silence enveloped Lord and Lady Merton as the footman cleared the tea tray.

"Might you need anything else, milord?" young Andrew asked.

"No, thank you. Please tell Mead that I would like to speak with him in the dining room in a half hour."

"Of course, milord," Andrew answered, bowing to both Dickie and Isobel before leaving them alone.

"Alone…and home…at last," Dickie said, coming over to sit beside Isobel. She smiled at him as he leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss. "I have missed you."

"And I you. I'm sorry I was unable to come along," she said sincerely. He took her hand in his and leaned back.

"No apologies, my dear. I know you had many events with the children at the orphanage this week. Did all go as planned?"

Isobel smiled weakly and nodded. "Yes, thank you. I think they are all ready for their exams next week."

"You have done them a great service by tutoring the older children."

"They are so far behind, and Mrs. Ingle simply does not have the staff available to help those who have missed years of schooling."

"Perhaps it would be best for the orphanage to employ its own teacher," he suggested, noticing her smile quickly turn to a frown. "Why the long face?"

She shook her head, averting her eyes from his."Don't mind me. I'm being overly sentimental, I suppose."

She pushed herself to stand, dropping his hand and crossing her arms. She moved to the fireplace and stared in to the flames, lost in thought until a pair of hands came to rest on her shoulders.

"And might I be of help?"

Her heart warmed at his genuine offer as she turned to face him. He kept his hands on her shoulders, his eyes quickly fixating on hers. "I know it is a far-fetched notion….but I wish we could find them all a good home. They are so kind and caring…qualities that any mother or father would hope for in a child."

"I'm sure we can think of something…perhaps talk some of the tenants. I'm sure they may be willing and able to care for another son or daughter," he reassured her.

Her shoulders sagged under his hands, and he worried at the toll working with the orphans was taking on her. He gently kneaded the tense muscles underneath his hands while looking her in the eye. "Let me see what I can do, all right? You should not be the only one to carry this burden."

She tried to smile, to look as though she was strong and not worried about each young boy and girl. "Thank you. I have a meeting with Mrs. Ingle in the morning to discuss some possible options until new families seek adoption. We'll come up with something, I'm sure."

"Would you like me to come with you?" he asked.

"Thank you, but I'll manage," she replied. "Besides…Timothy will want a tour of the grounds now that spring has arrived."

"But we can do that…"

"No, no. I want you to spend time with him. It is wonderful that he is interested in the estate."

Dickie gently rubbed his hands over her shoulders. He knew she was deflecting the real conversation to focus on he and his son, rather than her worry over the orphans.

"Think on it?" he asked quietly, as he leaned forward to press a small kiss to her forehead. "I am happy to come and help if you need."

"I know," she replied, her eyes closing as she reveled in his touch. He could sense her fatigue and pulled her in to his side, leading her towards the entrance of the drawing room.

"Why don't you have a rest before dinner? I have to see Mead about some changes I'd like to make during the Season."

She nodded and sighed. "I suppose. We should look over the invitations that came while you were away."

"Tomorrow morning after breakfast? You've had enough on your plate for one day," he said cautiously. When she did not protest, he inwardly celebrated. For once, she was not insistent she was strong enough to press on. And while, in the moment, he was happy she was heeding his opinion on the subject…he realized all too soon that her lack of fight was not necessarily a good sign. As she made her way up the staircase to her bedroom, he noticed quickly how her steps were slow and lagging of her usual energy.

"You asked to see me, milord?" Mead said, coming up behind Dickie. Dickie held up a hand, not turning to acknowledge the Butler until he was sure Isobel had reached the top of the staircase. The Butler followed Lord Merton's eyes, knowing how his employer worried for his wife's health.

"Yes, yes I did, Mead," Dickie finally answered, turning towards the Butler. Mead did not often see Dickie Grey so serious, but when it came to his new wife, the Butler had learned to expect the unexpected from his employer. "Come to the dining room. There are a few things to go over for the upcoming Season…and I would like to know how Lady Merton has fared while I've been away."

"Fared, milord?" Mead asked, following Dickie in to the dining room.

"She's been ill again, hasn't she?" Dickie asked, while the Butler closed the door behind them.

"Milord…."Mead said, turning to find Dickie with his arms crossed and glaring at the Butler. The Butler swallowed a lump in his throat and prayed he was doing the right thing. "Yes, milord. She had a severe headache yesterday."

Dickie uncrossed his arms and gripped the nearest chair, cursing under his breath. "Was the doctor called?"

"She asked that we not. Elsa suggested it but Lady Merton did not believe it would be of any help to have the doctor here."

Dickie looked out the window, his thoughts consumed with anxiety and fear.

"Milord, Lady Merton did not want us to tell you of this. I fear I have gone against her wishes," Mead said, his head bowing in shame.

"I am sure," Dickie replied quietly, knowing Isobel would not want him to worry. "I will say none of what you have told me, Mead. But I appreciate your honesty. I need to know these things."

"Yes, milord," Mead replied, chancing a look towards his employer once more. The man seemed crushed, something Mead could not remember ever seeing in his twenty some years with the family.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you all for such wonderful reviews! I hope you enjoy this next chapter :) _

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"You're rather quiet this evening, Isobel. Everything all right?" Timothy asked after dinner. He, Dickie and Isobel had gone through to the drawing room to discuss the comings on the estate grounds. But, it had turned in to a two party conversation once they had sat down to their after dinner drinks.

"Hm? Oh yes, everything is fine," she lied, smiling before taking a sip of her coffee. Dickie's own smile weakened upon seeing the slight shake in her hand.

"Not another run in with the Dowager, I hope?" he asked with a chuckle, hoping to lighten his wife's mood.

Isobel smiled, shaking her head. "No…she has been rather subdued lately."

"The Dowager subdued? I didn't think it possible," Timothy replied, joining the couple in light laughter.

"It isn't often," Isobel answered, taking another sip from her cup. She could handle conversation no longer, her eyes struggling to stay open. She set her cup to the side and stood slowly. "I will leave you both to it. I'm heading up."

Both men stood and nodded to her. "Good night, Isobel," Timothy said.

"Good night," she said softly, accepting a kiss from her step son on the cheek. Dickie gently squeezed her elbow as he also kissed her cheek.

"I'll be up soon," he whispered in her ear, earning him a sparkle in his wife's eyes.

She left the room and both men sat once more.

"I'm a bit worried about Isobel, Father. She seemed awfully distant this evening. Nothing wrong, I hope," Timothy said, finishing his scotch with one last swig.

"She is very involved with our local orphanage. They've had quite the influx of children since the War and a lack of families willing to take in another child. Isobel had made it her goal to help as much as she can."

Timothy chuckled. "She is motivated, to say the least. I can only imagine it takes up a fair bit of her time."

Dickie sighed. "Her time…and her energy I'm afraid."

Timothy saw the worry on his father's face and sat forward to question him further. But Dickie had finished his drink and stood.

"I'm done in. Tomorrow we'll go for a tour of the grounds. I'd like your opinions on some improvements we've been considering."

Timothy stood and nodded. "Of course. I look forward to it."

Dickie forced a smile and bid Timothy good night. He hurried to his dressing room, wanting to get to Isobel's bedroom before she fell asleep. It would not do for her to end the day with such a heavy burden on her mind. He hoped to take some of it off of her shoulders and help her relax before the day was done.

* * *

Dickie had a plan…a plan that he hoped would set his wife's mind at ease. He quietly opened the door to her…no, _their_…bedroom, and found Isobel already lying down in bed.

"Dickie?"

He smiled and shut the door, happy to see her roll over and greet him. He had never known such welcome in the former Lady Merton's bedroom. But Isobel had made it quite clear from the beginning that she did not wish for her husband to sleep in separate quarters.

"I thought you might have been asleep," he replied, taking off his dressing gown before climbing in to bed beside her. She laid her head down on the pillow and smiled up at him, reaching over to take his hand.

"I am sorry I was so preoccupied this evening," she began.

He lifted her hand to kiss the back of it. "Not to worry. I know this business with the orphans concerns you."

She looked down at their entwined fingers and sighed. "It does. I'm not sure whether or not my meeting with Mrs. Ingle will make any difference. It seems all of our options have been exhausted thus far."

"My dear…you cannot fix this all on your own. You will make yourself ill and then what will the children do?"

Isobel sighed once more and looked down, allowing Dickie to pull her close. "You're right of course."

Dickie put his hands on her cheeks, leaning forward to kiss her softly. Breaking the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers and smiled.

"I do have an idea that you might be open to."

"Hm?" she murmured, a small yawn claiming her voice.

He chuckled and kissed her temple. "Shall it wait for the morning?"

"No…no…what is it?"

He wrapped his arms around her after turning off his bedside lamp. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he gently rubbed her back as she curled in to his chest.

"Why not allow me to speak with Robert and Cora? There is an orphanage in Downton Village. Perhaps they would have some alternatives to entertain."

"Oh Dickie, would you really?" she asked, sitting up on her elbows and smiling widely.

"Of course," he said, matching her smile and pulling her down to lie beside him once more. "I will ring tomorrow morning to see when they might be free."

"Thank you darling," she said softly, reaching up to pull his face down to hers. She pressed her lips to his as he tightened his hold around her and deepened their embrace. Her hand slipped from around his neck to rest on his chest, weakness and fatigue suddenly taking hold. He felt her body slacken and worriedly broke the kiss.

"Isobel?" His eyes questioned her silently, wanting to make sure she was all right. He could clearly tell she was distant, her energy drained from the anxiety of the day.

"I'm sorry, dear. I'm just a bit tired tonight. Not that I don't want…"

He quickly cut her off, knowing she always wished to please him as a wife was expected to in the aristocratic world. But tonight, it was not marital relations he wanted from her…it was to simply help her through this trying time.

"Darling, I want you to rest tonight. And do let me take care of you for awhile," he said, earning him another soft kiss from his weary wife.

"Thank you," she whispered, her eyes closing against her own will. Dickie pulled her even closer as they settled in for the night, hoping his plan would benefit both the orphanage and his wife.


	3. Chapter 3

_**The next Monday: Afternoon**_

"I do appreciate your taking the time to see me," Dickie said, taking the seat offered him in Dr. Clarkson's office at Downton Cottage Hospital.

"Not at all. We don't often see you down this way," Richard Clarkson replied, taking a seat behind his desk.

"Quite right. But after the planting season is over, we hope to be down for a week or so to stay at Downton. Lady Merton so longs to see George more often."

"I can imagine," Dr. Clarkson said with a small smile. "You were visiting with Lord Grantham this afternoon I take it?"

"Mm…Lady Merton has been working with the local orphanage to tutor the elder children and help care for the young ones when needed. We have come to maximum capacity and our Matron, Mrs. Ingle, is beside herself with worry that no families have expressed interest in adoption. Lord Grantham had some opinions I would like to take back in hopes a few children will be given a loving home."

Richard sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, intrigued by Lord Merton's story. "A noble undertaking…and how I might help in this venture?"

Dickie cleared his throat and sat forward, his hands coming to rest on his knees. "I'm afraid I must apologize, Dr. Clarkson. It is not for the orphans that I am seeking your help."

Dr. Clarkson's brow furrowed. "Then for whom?"

"You see," Dickie began, standing and crossing to the far window, "as I was about to drive out of the village, I saw the hospital and decided to chance your being here. Do forgive my forwardness, but I could not pass up the opportunity to discuss a rather personal matter with you."

Richard Clarkson's eyes widened, but he kept collected. "Of course…please…"

He motioned for Dickie to come back to the chair in front of his desk, but the man was too anxious to sit. He took a few steps forward, clasping his hands behind his back.

"You see…if Lady Merton knew I'd discussed this with you…I fear I would be in quite a bit of trouble. But, I fear her initial diagnosis might not be the correct one," Dickie answered, looking down with a bit of guilt.

"Lady Merton is ill?" Richard asked, his concern quickly growing for his good friend and former colleague, Isobel Grey.

Dickie nodded. "I had her examined by our local physician, Dr. Thompson. He ran a few tests and determined it was simply a case of fatigue. He suggested she take some time away from her work and get a sufficient amount of rest and good nutrition."

"But this has not helped?" Dr. Clarkson asked, sitting forward. He did not want to miss one word of Lord Merton's explanation…it was the opinions of those closest to a patient that could clue a doctor in to the true problem.

"Her headaches have been getting much worse…and she loses feeling in her legs at times. She tries to hide it from me, but it is obvious the pain she is in. However, it's the fatigue which worries me most. We went on an extended holiday, as Dr. Thompson suggested, but I'm afraid she returned more tired than before we left."

"And the symptoms began how long before?"

Dickie put his hand on his chin, looking down in contemplation. "It must have been a few months…"

The doctor nodded, scribbling a few notes on a pad of paper. "Anything else out of the ordinary?"

"She…well she just isn't herself. Her energy and her wish to fight for what is right…it seems to have vanished. She is simply too tired…"

Richard scribbled something more and then stood. "Lady Merton's symptoms do seem odd, especially for her. Do you think you could persuade her to come in for an evaluation?"

"Dr. Clarkson, you and I both know she will not take kindly to that," Dickie countered.

Richard chuckled. "True, but I think it might be for the best….if only to make sure there is nothing more we can do to ease the pain she is in."

"Of course. I will find a way to convince her," Dickie said, again reaching his hand out to shake the doctor's. "Thank you, Dr. Clarkson."

"My pleasure, Lord Merton. Please give my best to Lady Merton," Richard replied, showing Dickie out the door.

Once Lord Merton was safely in his motor car and traveling away from the hospital, Richard Clarkson locked himself in his office. He sat heavily in his desk chair and looked over the scribbled notes containing Isobel's symptoms. He began wracking his brain for any diagnosis that contained all of these symptoms and quickly crossed to his bookshelf to begin an investigation.

* * *

"Ah, Isobel, there you are. I was hoping to catch you before the gong," Dickie said, entering the library and finding his wife engrossed in her work.

"How was your meeting with Robert and Cora?" she asked, stealing her eyes away from the thick stack of papers to accept a kiss on the cheek from her husband.

"They've given me quite a lot to think about…a few ideas that we would have to speak with Mrs. Ingle about before taking on. But...it seems that Robert's father set up a grant to supply funds for the older children to attend institutionalized schools. The school will house them year-round, rather than waiting for foster families to come along."

"And how do the children take to these schools?" she asked. Her main concern was that each child was loved…not that they were simply provided a roof over their heads.

"Some do quite well, but others…well…it is difficult when they have spent a few years in an orphanage to suddenly go to a structured facility," he answered with a sigh. He looked out the large window, different ideas swirling through his mind. But even with his mind full of potential actions, he could not shake the voice of Richard Clarkson telling him to bring Isobel in for an evaluation.

"Dickie?"

Isobel stood and touched his arm, breaking him from his moment of contemplation. "I am sorry, my dear," he said, taking her hand, "I am simply thinking over all that Robert suggested."

She smiled warmly and leaned over to kiss his cheek before sitting back at the desk. "Mrs. Ingle and I have a meeting with some community members' tomorrow morning. Perhaps we can see what their thoughts are on fostering some of the elder children before we contact any institutions."

"Do you really think they will?"

Isobel's smile dropped, as did her pencil. "I'm not sure. But if we offer that the children can help with chores in the home and on the farm, perhaps they will agree it is for the best."

"Words are not always enough…."Dickie replied, his hands clasping behind his back. "Actions do tend to promote a better response in desperate situations."

"And what type of action do you suggest?"

"It was something Cora said…something about letting prospective families know how wonderful the children are…" he commented, his eyes straying again as his thoughts began to formulate in to a plan. Leaning down, he kissed her cheek and squeezed her shoulder. Turning, he walked towards the doorway, leaving Isobel confused in his wake.

"Dickie, what are you planning?"

"All in good time, my dear," he replied, winking at her before closing the door.


	4. Chapter 4

"They will have to see that taking in a child is for the best! What a wonderful idea!" A dazzling smile crossed Isobel's face as her hands came together under her chin in delight.

Dickie moved towards her and put both of his hands on her arms. "Now…now…let us not get ahead of ourselves. There will be quite a lot of work to do and people to involve. It's just a notion…I wouldn't want to dash your hopes if it does not pan out."

Isobel nodded but her smile weakened none. She took her husband's arm as Mead announced dinner. She was grateful to have Dickie's support when many in the community felt the orphanage was a breeding ground for criminal activity.

"I do so appreciate your taking an interest in this," she said softly as Mead held out the chair for her.

"Anything that interests you interests me," Dickie replied, raising his glass to her. She blushed and looked down, grateful the footmen entered with the first course so her color might return to normal.

They discussed Dickie's idea for the elder orphans to work on fixing and opening the old school house that had burned down the summer before. When fall had arrived, the school children had been divided into age groups and separated in to smaller buildings. The men in the community were unable to devote their time to the rebuilding project; and yet, large families were furious that their children were spread now across the entire county.

Isobel and Dickie both realized that many in the county felt education was worthless. It was true that working on the farm or in a trade was beneficial; but education could afford a child so many other opportunities. It had become a joint effort for Lord and Lady Merton to promote all children in the county attending classes…but the loss of the schoolhouse had not helped their endeavor.

Isobel excitedly detailed how some of the older boys were always willing to fix things at the orphanage and were sure to be helpful with the project. Dickie listened with amusement, pleased to see the spark back in his wife's eyes. Perhaps this would help not only the orphanage…but the county in general. If they could show that children could be hard-working _AND _receive an education, it may help get orphans in to good homes where schooling was welcome.

With dessert finished, Isobel declared she wanted to write down a few details to discuss with Mrs. Ingle the next day. She did not want to forget a thing after hearing Dickie's plan. It was in this moment that she saw her husband in a different light. His well-rounded background and willingness to entertain unpopular notions made her feel all the more blessed to have him by her side.

Mead held Isobel's chair as she stood and smiled gently to Dickie. "Will you stay in here for a bit?"

"No, no I'll come through with you now."

She took his offered arm as they moved in to the drawing room. "Dr. Clarkson wishes you well and said to say hello."

"Dr. Clarkson? When did you see him?" she asked.

He cleared his throat, hoping to make it seem as though he had not _requested_ to meet with the doctor. "I happened upon him in the village. He said to wish you well."

"How kind! I fear I have not gotten to visit the Outpatient Clinic as often as I'd like," she replied with a sigh.

Dickie helped her sit at the desk and handed her a cup of coffee from the young footman, Andrew. She thanked him and wrote down a few notes on her tablet, while Dickie gathered a glass of scotch for himself.

"Perhaps we can rectify that," Dickie said, moving back to the center of the room.

"Rectify what?" she asked, finishing her writing and standing to move towards the settee.

Dickie waited for her to make herself comfortable before sitting across from her. He eyed her suspiciously, noticing how the fine lines by her eyes creased a bit deeper this evening, her movements slow as she sipped the warm coffee. The happy cantor they'd shared over dinner seemed to vanish as she now sat quietly, her stature drained of its prior energy. He knew he needed to speak to her about visiting Dr. Clarkson…it could wait no longer.

Isobel set her cup on her lap and looked over to him. "Dickie…what is it you wish to rectify?"

"I thought we might take a trip in to see George soon…perhaps you can speak with Dr. Clarkson then and visit the clinic," he began cautiously.

"That would be lovely…goodness, you're one for thoughtful ideas today," she replied, laughing softly.

"I wouldn't say that," Dickie answered, setting his glass of Scotch to the side and standing. He nodded to Andrew who understood and left the pair alone. As the footman closed the door behind him, Isobel turned to find Dickie sitting beside her.

"Where has Andrew gone?" she asked.

"I wanted to speak to you alone…I know the walls have ears but better they are not in plain sight," he answered with a smile.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, setting her coffee cup aside and turning back to eye him seriously.

"Yes, everything is fine. But I want to be honest with you….my reasoning for taking you to Downton is not only to visit family and friends."

"Whatever do you mean?" she inquired.

"I've asked Dr. Clarkson to give his thoughts on your health, Isobel…to see if he agrees with Dr. Thompson's diagnosis."

Isobel sat back, her body language signaling the tension that suddenly filled the room. "I don't understand."

"My dear, your headaches have been getting worse over the past few months. And Dr. Thompson's suggestion of rest has done nothing if not cause you more fatigue. I wanted Dr. Clarkson's opinion."

She turned her face away, her lips drawn in a tight line.

"Please forgive me for not speaking with you first…but the chance was in front of me and I took it," he explained, anxiously searching her face for a reaction.

Isobel was full of mixed emotions: anger, guilt, gratitude. She looked down and clasped her hands together, her thumbs unconsciously twiddling in circles. Dickie allowed her to her thoughts for a few moments but could only handle her silence for so long. He gently placed his hand over hers, causing her thumbs to cease moving.

"Isobel…I am sorry," he said softly. "But please do not push me away…not when I only want to help." She took a deep breath before looking up at him, the hurt evident in her eyes.

"I am sorry for worrying you. I fear I've allowed the stress of the orphans to take over my emotions," she replied before biting her bottom lip. She did not dare admit how poorly she'd felt…or that she, too, had been concerned that the fatigue and pain were only getting worse.

Dickie squeezed her hands and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "My dear, I think you realize it is more than the stress of the orphans."

Isobel's shoulders drooped lower than her normal posture. "I'm afraid your wife is getting no younger, Lord Merton. And one's energy as they age does weaken."

"Indeed. But please….allow me this. It seems while your energy has weakened, my nerves have heightened. At least if Dr. Clarkson sees you…well, I will feel I've done something more to help," he answered.

"Dickie, you've done more than I could ever ask," she replied, finally allowing his fingers to entwine with hers.

"And so I ask you this one last favor. Forgive me, my dear…I know I am overzealous. But I do worry about you ever so much."

Isobel allowed a small smile to grace her lips. "It's very lucky you are eloquent, Lord Merton. Your words seemed to have squelched my anger."

"Then you will allow Dr. Clarkson to ask a few questions about how you've been feeling?"

"Only if you promise not interject your own thoughts," she warned, standing to head up for the evening.

"I would not dream of it," he replied, following her to exit the drawing room. But he was stopped in his tracks as she turned to face him and firmly placed her hand in the middle of his chest.

"And mind you do not forget it," she said softly as her lips curled upward.

_With that look_, he thought, _how can I deny her?_ Smiling, he nodded and took her hand to follow her out of the drawing room.


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry for such a lengthy wait! I hope this is worth it :)_

* * *

_**Thursday Afternoon**_

"I'm glad you could come. George adores his Grandmamma," Mary said quietly to Dickie. The pair smiled at the little boy settled in Isobel's lap across the room.

"And she adores him. I wish we could spend more time over this way…I know Isobel longs for it," Dickie replied with a hint of sadness.

"Well then you must come more often," Mary answered simply. "You should have more time now that Timothy is involved with running the estate."

"On occasion…though he does still live in London. But it is not _my_ time that is compromised…I'm afraid Isobel has taken on helping at the local orphanage."

Mary turned to her godfather. "Papa did say you met to discuss plans for the children. I thought it was more for financial reasons...not for Isobel to take on more work."

"It is both, I suppose. She has been helping to tutor the older ones who are behind in their studies…as well as taking an interest in their health when the doctor is unavailable."

"She's not one to rest, is she?" Mary replied, her eyes turning as George giggled from his place nestled against Isobel. The boy's head was under her chin, his hands resting on hers as she read him a favorite fairy tale. "But seeing her with George…I imagine it is quite comforting for the poor orphans to have her about."

Dickie nodded and sighed. "True…but at what cost to her?"

"What?" Mary asked, her eyes quickly darting back to Dickie. She noticed how the man's lips had dropped in to a frown. "Is something the matter?"

Dickie shook his head, waving away her concern. "Don't mind me."

Mary wanted to question him further, but he stood, taking out his pocket watch. Their meeting with Dr. Clarkson was in a half hour, and he didn't want to be late for fear the doctor might be called away to another patient.

Isobel had just finished the book and put it aside when she caught Dickie's movement. She hated to leave but knew she must uphold her end of the bargain; time with George whenever she wanted for one trip to the doctor. She'd never been one to admit feeling poorly, but knowing Dr. Clarkson well, she realized the good doctor would easily deduce she was not feeling up to par. Though, any time spent with her only grandson was worth becoming a bit vulnerable in front of Dr. Clarkson.

"I am sorry, my dear, but it seems we have to be getting on," Dickie said. George's head turned at the elder man's voice, his smile wide.

"Grandpop, stay!" he called out, shimmying off of Isobel's lap to cross to Dickie. The young boy stretched his head as far back as he could to look up at Dickie. "Please!"

"Do stay for dinner," Mary added, standing to take George's hand in hers. "You needn't change. Granny is coming tonight…I'm sure she would be pleased to see you."

Dickie held out his arm as Isobel stood and stepped forward. She took it and smiled warmly to Mary.

"Thank you, dear, but I'm afraid we do have another appointment we must attend to," Isobel answered, looking down at George. "Though Grandmamma is very sad she must leave."

"Stay!" George called out again, tugging his hand from Mary's so he could wrap both arms around Isobel's legs.

Isobel's heart broke at the sight, wanting nothing more than to stay with her darling boy. Dropping Dickie's arm, she put both hands on George's cheeks and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"Now, now…Grandmamma will visit again soon. You must be a good boy until then, all right?" she asked quietly, forcing a smile as George's bottom lip began to quiver. He nodded but still held tight to her legs, tears beginning to well in his large, blue eyes.

"Don't worry darling, Grandmamma will be back next Saturday. Perhaps we can even persuade her to come early and have a picnic luncheon….what do you say?" Mary asked, looking to Dickie and Isobel for their approval.

"I think that would be wonderful!" Dickie said, delighted to see the little's boy face turn upward. Isobel laughed softly as George squeezed her legs tightly in a hug and then hurried over to do the same to Dickie's legs. Dickie ruffled the boy's hair softly before George could run over to clutch Mary's hand.

"Well, I'd say that was an easy fix," Mary said, smiling down at her son. "Perhaps Edith and Marigold will want to come along."

Isobel took Dickie's arm once more while George nodded enthusiastically. Mary and George led the way out of the library, planning the following weekend's picnic as they went, while Dickie and Isobel followed. Dickie had to chuckle at the excitement one picnic could bring to a little boy…such innocence he had not seen for more years than he cared to count.

As they reached the door, Mary stopped to pick George up for their final goodbye. Dickie noted how tightly Isobel gripped his arm, not letting go when George leaned over to hug her neck.

"Goodbye Grandmamma," he said, kissing Isobel's cheek. "Miss you."

"I'll miss you too, George," she whispered, rubbing her hand down his cheek before Mary pulled him back.

"Now say goodbye to Grandpop," Mary instructed, suppressing a giggle as George held out a little hand.

"Goodbye Grandpop!" George said seriously, his lips pressing together firmly as he had seen "Donk" do when greeting visitors.

The adults could not contain their laughter as Dickie took George's hand. "Goodbye George. We shall meet again soon."

George nodded once and then allowed his face to break in to a smile. He and Mary waved from the front door while Dickie helped Isobel in to the car. The couple waved back as the chauffeur drove away from Downton Abbey.

Leaning back, Dickie reached over to take Isobel's hand. "Are you all right? You seemed a bit unsteady coming out of the house."

She nodded, though her eyes betrayed her. "I'm fine," she replied softly, looking out the other window.

Dickie left her to her thoughts, knowing how much she hated leaving George. But he hoped it was nothing more than that; though…if it were…they were soon to find out as the car made its way towards Downton Cottage Hospital.

* * *

Dickie paced anxiously in the hall outside of Richard Clarkson's office. He felt better knowing that Isobel was with a young nurse she'd help train a few years ago…especially if he could not be by her side just now. He looked at his pocket watch again and sighed. Only five minutes had passed since he last looked…and it had been over forty since he'd left Isobel alone. But those forty minutes felt like forty hours.

Sighing, he turned and strode in the other direction, clasping his hands behind his back. It made him worry more that Isobel had seemed quite anxious when they made it to the hospital; not at all like how she typically responded to any sort of medical situation. He knew he had to be strong for her in this case…but she had always been quite dominant as a nurse that he took for granted her bravery. Of course, he had never had to consider that she would become the patient…and he prayed it was nothing serious because he was far from well-versed in care-giving.

He turned quickly when he heard the door open behind him. Dr. Clarkson stepped out, smiling.

"Do come in, Lord Merton. We've just finished," he said kindly, motioning for the nervous gentleman to enter his office.

Relief washed over Dickie as he nodded, thanking the doctor before stepping through the door. Isobel was seated in front of the large desk, her hands clasped in front of her and looking down. Hearing footsteps, she looked up and caught sight of her husband. She could see the worry lines across his forehead and felt guilty being the cause of his anxiety. She smiled to him as he took the seat beside her and gently squeezed her hand before turning to face Dr. Clarkson.

"How is she, Dr. Clarkson?" he asked. He hoped he sounded stronger than he felt. Dr. Clarkson looked up from writing a few notes to regard the couple.

"I think you were right to come…I agree that Lady Merton's symptoms are more than a case of simple fatigue."

Dickie's breath caught in his throat as he looked over at Isobel. She was once again studying her hands in her lap, not meeting either her husband or the doctor's eyes. Dickie turned back to Richard and nodded.

"Do go on," he prodded.

"While I cannot be sure of the cause of these symptoms, I can assure you the cure is not merely rest and relaxation. I have taken a sample of Lady Merton's blood for testing. Hopefully, this will help to decipher the exact diagnosis."

"And how long will it take to receive that?"

"I should have some answers within a week or so. Until then, I am recommending a great amount of fresh air and a few foods that should help bring her stamina back to normal."

"But you said the cure was more than that, did you not?"

Dr. Clarkson sat back in his chair and folded his hands together. "The severity of Lady Merton's headaches and loss of feeling in her legs does concern me a great deal."

He looked down at his hands, taking a deep breath, before continuing.

"But until I know the true diagnosis, it would be ill-advised to prescribe a remedy that might only cause her more discomfort if not the correct cure. Lady Merton, I presume, would agree that it is imperative to do all we can to nip this in the bud immediately."

Dickie's eyes widened as he turned to face his wife. Dr. Clarkson also looked up to catch Isobel's eyes. But she had not acknowledged the doctor's last statement; the only movement being that of her thumbs twirling in fast circles while her hands remained in her lap. Cautiously, Dickie reached over and put his hand over hers, her thumbs now ceasing their fidgeting.

She looked up and offered her husband a weak smile before looking to Dr. Clarkson. "I agree."

Dickie also looked to the doctor and nodded. "We will do all you ask of us," he said calmly, keeping his hand over Isobel's.

"I will ring when the results are in. At that time, I would like you to come in for another evaluation, Lady Merton. It is important that you make note of any new symptoms or if the current headaches, numbing and fatigue worsen until that time."

Isobel nodded obediently. "Will that be all, Dr. Clarkson?" she asked softly, wanting nothing more than to get away from the exam room, the hospital….the fear…

"Yes, I think so. The Nurse at the front desk will have a few stronger headache powders for you to take along. And if there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to send for me."

He stood and smiled at the couple. "We will find a solution…I'm sure of it."

Dickie stood and held out a hand, shaking Dr. Clarkson's. "I am so grateful, Dr. Clarkson." Looking back to his wife, he helped her stand and then turned back to the doctor. "We both are."

"Not at all," Richard replied, opening the door. "I am happy to help…and to see you both. Once we've come to an answer, I hope we can meet for a happier occasion."

He led them out to the front desk where Isobel was given a small bag of powders. Before leaving, Dr. Clarkson shook Dickie's hand again and gently held Isobel's between both of his.

"Do rest, Lady Merton. I know it is difficult for a woman of your background…but it is imperative for your recovery."

"Thank you, Dr. Clarkson," she replied softly, turning to take Dickie's arm.

Richard Clarkson waved goodbye as the car containing Lord and Lady Merton drove away from Downton Cottage Hospital, hoping his nagging intuition turned out to be wrong in this case.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you to all who have reviewed…I know I am stringing out Isobel's diagnosis quite a bit…but it is because I want to be as historically accurate as possible! I promise the answer will come SOON!_

_Until then, I hope you enjoy a little romance :)_

* * *

_**One week later: Friday Evening**_

"Good evening, Father," Timothy said walking in to the library.

"I'd almost given up on you," Dickie said, setting his book aside and standing to shake his son's hand.

"Train broke down ahead of us on the tracks. Took three bloody hours to get it cleared," Timothy said, taking a seat across from his father. "Has Isobel already gone up?"

"Mm...We had a late dinner, and she retired soon after," Dickie replied.

"How have things been?" Timothy stretched his hands up in the air and clasped them behind his head, leaning back against the settee.

"Things seem to be going rather well with your new institutions. We can take a look over things tomorrow morning if you like."

Timothy nodded but saw that his father was still uneasy about something. Allowing a moment of silence, Timothy unclasped his hands and brought them to his knees, leaning forward to eye Dickie seriously.

"And how is Isobel?"

"Hmm…oh, she's well, thank you," Dickie answered, his eyes not meeting his son's.

"Father…you never were a good liar." Timothy smirked as his father finally met his eyes with a glare.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Come now, Father. I can see the worry written all over your face. Has the doctor said anything about her test results?"

Dickie finished his brandy and set the glass aside, rubbing a hand over his face. "No...he hasn't."

"And he has not come to any conclusion based on her symptoms?"

"Until the testing comes back, he does not wish to treat her in the case that his suggested treatment is the wrong one."

"Understandable. But she has been continuing with her work at the orphanage?"

"Yes, but I might make a trip down to visit Mrs. Ingle myself…to see if there are any other volunteers in the area that can help for the time being."

"How very gallant of you Father," Timothy said, smiling kindly a Dickie stood. He walked over and clapped a hand on Timothy's shoulder.

"I will say goodnight. Shall we go around the grounds in the morning? We are invited to luncheon at Downton in the afternoon."

"Splendid…let's have a look right after breakfast," Timothy replied, standing to bid his Father goodnight.

Dickie nodded and walked out of the library, leaving his youngest son to wonder what exactly had happened in the week he had been away.

* * *

"Milady, would you like me to get a headache powder for you?" Elsa asked softly, gently brushing Isobel's hair out.

Isobel had to admit that Elsa was very perceptive. She had tried to hide the increasing pain behind her eyes and down her neck by saying she was simply tired. But the lady's maid knew Her Ladyship well enough to realize something more was wrong.

"I'm sure a good night of sleep will be enough," Isobel replied softly, her fingers curling in to her palms as the pain increased. The light was beginning to hurt her eyes but she didn't dare turn off the lamp on her vanity….it would give her away much too easily.

"Of course. But as I am going down to get the tea Dr. Clarkson suggested for you, I will bring a powder on the tray…in case you might need it during the night," Elsa replied, hoping Isobel would not feel she was stepping across any lines.

Isobel sighed and closed her eyes. "Thank you, Elsa."

Setting the brush down, Elsa moved to begin braiding Isobel's hair. "Would you…would you mind leaving it down tonight, Elsa?"

Elsa's eyes creased in confusion. "Of course, milady…what would you…"

"Just pin back the front pieces perhaps…" Isobel suggested. She was doing a poor job of keeping her pain a secret from the lady's maid. It would probably be easier to tell her what was wrong. But the strong-willed, independent Isobel Grey would not give in so easily.

Elsa obliged silently, gently pulling back the top portion of Isobel's hair to easily pin at the base of her neck. She looked up and caught sight of Isobel's face in the mirror, finding the woman with her eyes closed and lips pressed together. Having seen this before, she knew it would be best to tell Lord Merton what was going on.

"I'm heading down for your tea, milady? Anything else you might need?"

"No…thank you, Elsa," Isobel answered, offering a weak smile for the lady's maid. Elsa nodded and left the room, closing the door quietly and heading in the opposite direction of the stairs…towards Lord Merton's dressing room.

* * *

Dickie waited at the end of the hall, as promised, until he saw Elsa close the door to his wife's bedroom a half hour later. She looked both ways, making sure no footmen were lurking in the hall, before hurrying towards him.

"How is she?" he whispered.

"She is drinking her tea…and she was eyeing the powder when I left. Hopefully she will take it," Elsa explained, clasping her hands in front of her and looking down.

"Good. If not, I will make sure to persuade her it is for the best."

"They do make her stomach upset," Elsa added, knowing it was the reason Isobel detested the new, stronger powders Dr. Clarkson provided.

Dickie sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I know…but it does allow her to sleep most of the night."

Elsa nodded as he offered her a weak smile. "Thank you for your help, Elsa. It is most appreciated."

"Of course, milord. If you need anything else…"

"I know…I know," he interrupted, already knowing they could call on her at any time, day or night, and she would be there to help. He smiled warmly to her. "Off you go…I'm sure she'll be fine by morning."

"Very good, milord. Good night."

"Good night, Elsa. And thank you," he said. He waited until she had disappeared through the door leading to the back stairwell before moving to Isobel's bedroom.

Knocking lightly, he entered the room and saw Elsa had already turned down all the lights, save for his and Isobel's side table lamps. He closed the door quietly when he saw Isobel already lying down, not reading as she usually did. Laying his dressing gown on the end of the bed, he slowly climbed in beside her and turned off his lamp.

The movement caused her to stir. "Dickie?"

"I'm here darling…" he said, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close as he lay down behind her. Her hand came to rest on his arm that now encircled her stomach.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly, pressing a kiss to the back of her head.

"Mmhm…"

"Your hair is down," he commented. He wondered why it was not pulled in to a braid, but didn't question her…for her long hair was one of his favorite features and it was not often he saw it left loose.

"Mmhm…"

Her fingers entwined with his as she shifted a bit, her back now pressed against his chest. He knew he should be worried she was feeling poorly, but he could not help feeling pleased that she wanted him near her…physically….

"We should turn off the light," he said softly, his free hand now reaching up to stroke her long curls. A small sigh of contentment from his wife soon followed. He continued to massage the back of her head and neck, hoping it would help her pain in some small way.

After a few moments, her fingers left his, and she reached over, turning off her bedside lamp. Slowly, she turned over and took his hand, placing it back around her waist, and snuggled in to his chest. He chuckled softly, wrapping his other arm around her and gently resting his chin on her hair.

"Comfortable?" he asked.

"Mmhm…"

He waited a few moments, hoping to catch her in a moment of vulnerability, before he asked the question burning in his mind.

"Isobel…did you take the powder?" he asked cautiously.

"Mmhm…"

"And did it…" he began, only to be interrupted by her fingers covering his lips. Her face lifted from under his chin and she shushed him lovingly.

"Just hold me," she said, her fingers moving to caress his cheek. "Please…"

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, lingering a moment before pulling back to look her in the eye. "I'll do anything you ask, my dear…"

Her smile was quickly covered by his lips, pressing firmly but still holding back for fear he might cause her more pain.

"Dickie…" she whispered against his lips, "…I love you."

He broke away, placing a hand on her cheek. "And I you…"

Her eyes softened and she leaned forward again. Her lips grazed over his once before she shifted slightly, pulling his hand down to rest on her hip. Getting as close to him as she could, she caught his lips with hers, wanting to forget all the pain…the uncertainty…the worry…

Surprised, Dickie proceeded slowly, fearing she was pushing herself too far…especially with the headache Elsa had described. But the way her lips worked over his…her gentle caresses up and down his arm…he knew he would not be able to hold back much longer. Placing his hands on her flushed cheeks, he pulled back and looked her deep in the eyes.

"Isobel…you need to rest…I shouldn't…."

His words were stalled when she gripped his wrists, shaking her head back and forth insistently.

"But darling…," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Isobel…"

"Dickie…I…I am not ill…" she countered, the tone of her voice serious as she looked up at him. He saw the fear etched in her features and knew she was saying the words to not only convince him, but to rid her own mind of worry. "Please don't push me away."

Her plea broke his heart. "Oh Isobel…I would never…"

His lips claimed hers as he wrapped her in a passionate embrace. He still moved slowly…gently…each touch hesitating slightly. Rolling her on to her back, he kept the full of his weight off of her until she moved to pull him close. However, her grip on his shoulders was weaker than normal, to the point where he wondered if she was feeling unsteady or woozy.

He pushed up on his hands, each one planted firmly on either side of her body, desperately trying to contain his want of her. His caution, however, was all for not. Her hands reached out, pulling his lips back to hers, not wanting his body to be more than a few inches away.

"Isobel…I fear I'm going to hurt you…" he explained between kisses. Her grip strengthened some but she kept silent, her actions all he needed to cast his worry aside. "You're sure…?"

She pulled back from a lingering kiss, meeting his gaze directly. "Quite sure," she answered with a small smile. "Now…are you finished asking questions, Lord Merton?"

He chuckled and placed another gentle kiss on her lips before removing his pajama top. "Indeed Lady Merton."


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry for the long wait! I am such a perfectionist that I want to be sure I keep within each character's profile as written by Julian Fellows…and that's not always easy! I hope you enjoy this next installment…any thoughts on what Isobel's diagnosis might be? Answers to come within the next two chapters!_

* * *

_**Saturday Afternoon**_

"Grandmamma!" George cried, rushing in to Isobel's open arms.

"Hello my darling," she said softly, wrapping her arms around him to enjoy snuggling the young boy.

Timothy marveled at how close Isobel seemed with children…something he had never known growing up. Perhaps being middle class had its benefits…after all, he supposed she was the same way with her own son. He wondered what his life would have been like if his mother and father had shown him that same kind of compassion as a young boy.

George pulled back and put his hands on both of Isobel's cheeks, rubbing his nose back and forth against hers. They both laughed softly, enjoying their unique greeting, before George turned to find Dickie. Isobel loved watching Dickie with George…knowing her husband had never been comfortable around young children. Neither was the Earl of Grantham for that matter. But George seemed to bring out the best in both older men.

Dickie obliged George's request and lifted the young boy in to his arms as Robert ruffled his blond hair. The men laughed as George began detailing a story of what happened on his and Marigold's walk that morning. Timothy stood back a few steps, even more shocked to see his Father so hands-on with his step-grandson. Isobel had surely brought on another side of Richard Grey that his son had not seen before.

As George continued his animated story to the men, Edith walked over holding little Marigold's hand.

"Here is Aunt Isobel, darling," Edith said softly, placing Marigold's hand in Isobel's. "She was asking after you earlier."

"Was she?" Isobel asked, a bit surprised but glad. She squeezed the little girl's hand and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "How is Miss Marigold today?"

The shy girl smiled warmly and it took only a wink from Isobel to get the girl to pull her thumb out of her mouth and climb in to the elder woman's lap. Edith's smile widened as her daughter snuggled in to Isobel's arms.

"She does fancy you," Edith said, taking a seat next to Violet on the opposite side of the table. The small picnic Mary had suggested the week before was now a large gathering, the entire family coming along to enjoy the warm, spring day.

"Must be all that spoiling," Violet replied smartly. Isobel rolled her eyes and rubbed her hand up and down Marigold's back, brushing the curls away from the young girl's cheeks.

"Now Mama, Isobel does not get to see the children as often," Cora reminded her mother-in-law, reaching over to brush her fingers across Marigold's cheek. "They appreciate the attention whenever they can get it."

"Perhaps we give them too much attention," Mary answered, walking in under the tent from giving directions to the footmen. "I cannot remember being let out of the nursery until I was six or seven."

"That's not true," Edith replied. "We always came down for the Christmas and New Year's Day parties each year."

Mary shrugged and took her seat, stealing a peek at George still in Dickie's arms. "I'm afraid I don't remember."

Edith sighed and looked to her mother for support. But they were interrupted when George ran over to Mary, taking her hands in his.

"Mama, might we go to tea with Grandmamma and Grandpop tomorrow? Grandpop says there is a surprise for us!"

"A surprise? Really?" Mary asked, casting a smile at her son and then looking over to Dickie.

"Just a little something I picked up a week or so ago," Dickie answered. Isobel's eyes creased in curiosity, and he winked at her. Placing her chin on Marigold's head, she rocked the young girl back and forth slowly, deciding her husband meant to surprise her as well.

"Please Mama, might we go? Might we?" George pleaded, patting Mary's hands together. Mary laughed softly. She kissed George's forehead and sighed.

"I suppose. But only if you are a good boy and go to sleep tonight! No waking up Nanny, hear?"

"Yes Mama, I promise! Oh thank you! Thank you!"

George threw his little arms around Mary's neck as the adults smiled at such innocent joy. Even Timothy was touched by the young boy's excitement.

"Now, go and sit with Marigold at your table. Luncheon is ready." George squeezed Mary's neck once more and then skipped over to grasp Nanny's outstretched hand. Nanny looked over and saw Marigold quite content in Isobel's arms.

"Might you like me to take her, milady?"

Isobel reluctantly allowed Nanny to take Marigold from her as the men joined the women for luncheon.

"They are such dears," she said, looking over at George showing Marigold how to hold her spoon properly.

"For you, they are. I would not say that when they've missed their nap," Mary answered.

As the first course was being served, Dickie spoke up. "You are all invited to tea tomorrow, not just George and Mary. The surprise is for Marigold as well, Edith. "

"Oh, how thoughtful of you," Edith replied, smiling up at Dickie. "She will be delighted."

"My, this must be quite the event if we are all to be invited," Violet said.

"For the children perhaps… but I fear we have been so busy lately that we have not had the time to entertain as we would like, wouldn't you agree Isobel?" Dickie asked, looking over to catch his wife's eye.

"Indeed. We would love to have you over," she replied.

"Well then, we are happy to accept. Timothy, I would like to hear your thoughts on some innovations Tom suggested in his last letter," Robert said.

"Of course," Timothy answered, a bit surprised. He looked to his Father who wore a smile of pride. Perhaps being an extension of the Crawley Family would not be so bad after all.

* * *

_**Sunday afternoon**_

"What do you say? Shall we go find out about that surprise?" Dickie asked, bending down to be at the children's eye level. George and Marigold nodded vigorously, George reaching out to take Dickie's hand and jump up and down.

"Please, Grandpop, show us!" the little boy exclaimed. Dickie stood straight and held his other hand out, allowing Marigold to take it. Turning, he motioned for the rest of the family to follow them outside.

"Goodness, this _must_ be quite large if we're going outside," Mary said, raising an eyebrow at Isobel.

Isobel smiled as she followed her daughter-in-law out the front door. "I'm afraid even I was not let in on this secret."

"Perhaps he does not think you will approve," Violet answered from behind the pair. As they all stood in front of Cavenham, Isobel turned to Violet on her right.

"Must you always make things out to be worse than they are?" she asked.

"Must you always deny reality?" Violet countered, pressing her lips together.

"I do not deny reality. I just choose to think optimistically."

"You'd think we were living in a fairy story," Violet commented under her breath, earning a glare from Isobel.

They heard Dickie tell the children to cover their eyes and then motion to the groundskeeper standing at the corner of the house. The elder man nodded and disappeared around the side of the house for a moment, only to return leading two gorgeous foals over to where Lord Merton stood.

Cora gasped in surprise as both Mary and Edith's smiles reached their eyes. Violet smirked as Robert chuckled.

"Would you look at that?" he asked quietly, walking down to meet Lord Merton and his grandchildren.

"All right….George…Marigold…open your eyes," Dickie said, winking at Robert.

Both children obeyed, and their eyes quickly widened, seeing the two animals standing in front of them.

"These are your new horses, one for each of you," Dickie said, stretching his hand out to pat one of the foals' heads.

"It's all mine, Grandpop?" George asked, clearly shocked at the large animal being given to him.

"Yes, my boy, this one here is yours," Dickie said, pointing to the foal on the left. "And this young girl is for Marigold."

The little girl clapped her hands excitedly before reaching her arms up. Robert obliged and scooped the girl up, leading her over to pet her new horse. George, still astonished, looked back up at the porch and smiled at his mother.

"Mama! It's a horse! It's a horse and it's all mine!"

With that, the young boy ran forward and mimicked the groundskeeper, softly petting the foal on its side. Dickie laughed and came to stand behind George.

"What shall you call him, George?"

"I think….I think I will call him…well, what about Hunter? Since we use horses to go hunting with the dogs?"

Dickie looked back at Robert who nodded. "Well spotted, George," Robert replied, reaching out to pat Marigold's foal.

"Hunter it is," Dickie confirmed, smiling down at the young boy.

"And what shall we call Marigold's?" Robert asked, looking over at his granddaughter. "What do you think, darling? What shall we call your new friend?"

"Star!" the little girl cried out, pointing at the star shaped white mark on the foal's forehead.

"Well, there you have it. Star and Hunter," Robert replied, smiling as Cora, Edith and Mary joined them. As the family became acquainted with the newest members of their clan, Dickie looked up to find Isobel.

Isobel saw Dickie look in her direction and cast him an appreciative gaze. He nodded and then turned back to enjoy the children's excitement.

"What is all this?" Timothy asked, coming out to stand beside Violet and Isobel.

"Your father has decided to spoil the children with new foals," Violet remarked.

"How wonderful," Timothy said. "Those must be the new foals that the older mares had a few weeks ago. They are both in wonderful condition."

"At least he has not given them second best," Violet commented, earning another eye roll from Isobel.

"Would you ladies like to go down and see them?"

"No, no…I let animals stay in their pens where they are supposed to be," Violet said, turning back to walk in the house. Timothy suppressed a chuckle before turning back to his stepmother.

"And you, Isobel? Would you like to see them?"

"I would…" she began, taking a few steps toward him. But her legs suddenly felt as if they would collapse beneath her. She gripped the stone wall quickly, trying to remain composed.

"Isobel?" Timothy asked quietly, taking a step closer to her as he saw the color drain from her face.

"…But I'd best go make sure the Dowager is all right. I wouldn't want her to think us inhospitable for leaving her alone," she replied quietly, taking a tentative step forward and patting his arm before slipping through the front door.

And in that moment, Timothy realized how much he had come to care for his stepmother. And seeing her like this…well, it worried him to say the least. Not a moment later, Mr. Mead walked out to stand beside Timothy.

"What is it, Mead?" Timothy asked, his mind still on Isobel's curious condition.

"Telephone call for His Lordship, Sir," Mead replied.

Timothy nodded towards the group gathered around the two foals. "He is quite busy. Might I be able to take the call for him?"

Mead hesitated a moment, clearing his throat before he answered. "I'm not sure, Sir. It is a Dr. Clarkson."

Timothy's head snapped to face Mr. Mead, finding the Butler looking down at his shoes. "What did he say?"

"He's just asked to speak with His Lordship. He said it was urgent."

Timothy looked back towards his father, finding him smiling wide as George was now in his arms and petting the young horse, Hunter. How he hated to ruin this moment; to break the happiness playing out on his father's face.

"I'll go fetch him, Mead. Please tell Dr. Clarkson it will only be a moment."


	8. Chapter 8

Timothy observed his father throughout dinner, noting the elder gentleman seemed very quiet. He had not spoken to Timothy of the earlier conversation with Dr. Clarkson. And seeing as how Isobel seemed quite jovial and unassuming this evening, he supposed his father had not made her privy to Dr. Clarkson's information either.

"I doubt George or Marigold will sleep tonight," Isobel remarked, smiling to Dickie. "You made them both so happy."

"Indeed, Father. It was a splendid idea. How did you ever get Mr. Hamilton to agree to it?" Timothy asked, taking a sip of his wine.

"I reminded him of the trade show coming up. I suggested it might be better to fill the stables with horses that could put in a full day's work than with two foals which need quite a bit of attention," Dickie answered, forcing a smile to his son and wife.

The door opened and a young hall boy entered, catching only Timothy's attention as he slipped over to Mr. Mead and whispered something in his ear. The Butler nodded and quickly motioned for the boy to leave. Isobel saw Timothy's eyes focus on the exchange behind her and turned to see the door closing. Mead stepped forward before she had a chance to question the situation.

"I do apologize, Milord…Milady…it seems there is someone at the front door requesting to speak to Your Lordship immediately," Mead said quietly, clasping his hands behind his back.

Dickie's eyes narrowed as he fixed Mead with a pointed look. "What on Earth….who is this person and what is so urgent it cannot wait until morning?!"

Timothy was not surprised at his father's harsh tone, having heard it quite often growing up. But he did notice Isobel flinch slightly and supposed she was unaccustomed to Dickie speaking so irritably.

"I am sorry, Milord. It is Mrs. Ingle from the local orphanage. She said it is imperative she speak with you tonight."

Isobel's eyes quickly darted back and forth between Mead and Dickie. "Is something wrong with one of the children? Has she said?"

"She has not said, milady," Mead answered Isobel before looking back to Dickie. "Shall I send her off?"

"Of course not! Dickie…" Isobel pleaded, her eyes turning to meet her husband's. Upon seeing her so upset, Dickie could not help but allow his walls of defense down.

"Bring her in to the library and have a tea tray brought. I'll be along directly," Dickie answered, waiting until the Butler left the room to turn back to his family. Isobel had already placed her napkin on the table and was sliding her evening gloves up her arms.

"Isobel…perhaps you should stay here with Timothy…"Dickie said cautiously, standing and straightening his dinner jacket.

Confused, her brow furrowed as she looked up at him. "But surely if it's something to do with the children, she will need my help."

"Allow me to see what has happened. It may simply be something to do with an upset tenant or repairs needed for the building. I'm sure it's nothing to worry over…" he answered gently, looking over to Timothy, silently asking for his son's support.

"Father is right, Isobel. With the spring rains, it could be that the roof has a leak or there is flooding in one of the rooms."

Dickie smiled gratefully to his son and then turned back to Isobel. "You two finish here, and I'll be back straight away. I'm sure I'll be able to help Mrs. Ingle within the hour."

And with that, Lord Merton left the room. The footman closed the door behind him before Isobel was able to object further. She stared at the door for a moment, not sure what to think, before Timothy pulled her back from her reservations.

"Why don't I come through with you now, Isobel? I assume you do not wish to finish dessert…We can chat over Father's plan for the new school house to ease your worries," he said with a smile, standing and coming to offer her a hand.

"I…I suppose," she replied, taking his hand and following him out the door. He led her towards the drawing room but a soft cry from across the large hall stopped them both.

"What was that?"

Timothy put a hand on Isobel's arm, stalling her from moving forward.

"Stay here…I'll go see about it."

"But I…"

"Isobel…please. Father wouldn't want you to worry yourself more than necessary…and I would not want to be on the receiving end of his wrath."

Timothy made sure she agreed to stay put before hurrying across the hall to the front entrance. He looked back and forth to the darkened corners for any trace of someone injured or needing help. It was not until he came to the front door and turned to his right that he found what he was searching for….though it was not at all what he'd expected.

"My God…."

* * *

"Mrs. Ingle, I understand your predicament….but I fail to see how I may be of help in this situation."

"Lord Merton, forgive my boldness…but I am desperate. We simply have no room at the orphanage and with her needing this much care, she will need constant supervision. The nurses at the hospital are already overwhelmed…and well…Dr. Frederick suggested a live-in nurse until a good home can be found."

"And you wish for money to pay for a nurse?"

Mrs. Ingle looked down at her hands, shaking her head slowly. "No, milord…it is not money we need at the moment. It is a home….someone to keep her and care for her."

Dickie's heart seemed to stop as he now realized what the woman sitting in front of him was asking. Standing quickly, he moved to the fireplace, one hand on his chin and the other on his hip. Staring in to the embers, he knew what his answer needed to be….but explaining it to both Mrs. Ingle and his wife would not be an easy task.

"Please do not think me inhospitable nor unwilling to help….but Mrs. Ingle, if you are asking that she be left here at Cavenham Park…it is impossible," he said sadly, turning to meet the pleading eyes of Mrs. Ingle. "I know we have the room….but you see…Lady Merton is not…rather, she has been unwell…"

"Father!"

Timothy burst through the door, closing it quickly behind him and running up to Dickie.

"There is a baby, Father….in the front hall!" he spat out.

It was then he noticed Mrs. Ingle sitting silently, her hands gripping the small bag lying in her lap. Dickie remained rooted in place, his head hanging down.

"Father…what is going on?"

* * *

"Milady, there is something that may require your attention in the front hall," Mrs. Crane said, coming to stand in front of Isobel. Isobel thanked the footmen who had handed her a cup of coffee before turning to the Housekeeper.

"Yes, we did hear something when we came out of the dining room. Timothy was looking in to it."

"I'm sorry but I don't believe he is, milady," the Housekeeper countered. Isobel frowned slightly, setting her cup to the side.

"Whatever do you mean?" Isobel asked, attempting to keep any animosity out of her tone. Relations with the Housekeeper were already tense. It would not do to start a fight when there may be no need for one. Truth be told, she was too tired to deal with the infuriating woman tonight.

"He and His Lordship are still in the library with Mrs. Ingle. He did not take care of the…_problem_...it seems."

Isobel's eyes creased. "What sort of 'problem' is this?" she asked.

* * *

"Yes…well…I appreciate both of your thoughts. I'll bid you a good night….and please give my best to Lady Merton," Mrs. Ingle said. She nodded to both men and made her way to the door. Dickie followed and led her quickly through the front hall, hoping Isobel was still in the drawing room.

Timothy remained a few steps behind, his eyes drifting off in thought. It was an odd situation…and he wasn't sure what to make of it. But his thoughts were soon interrupted as he caught sight of Mrs. Crane opening the drawing room door and pointing to the front entrance.

Timothy moved quickly, catching Isobel by the shoulders as she rushed out of the drawing room. "Isobel, what is the matter?"

"Mrs. Crane said there is a sick baby at the front door! Is that what Mrs. Ingle is here about?" she asked, pushing past him and calling out for her husband. Timothy's glare at the Housekeeper quickly wiped away the smug expression plastered across her face.

If one thing was for sure, Mrs. Crane did everything in her power to rattle Lord and Lady Merton's relationship. She knew of Isobel's passion for the orphanage…and of Dickie's passion for his wife's well-being. Pitting those passions against each other was just the argument the Housekeeper hoped to ignite. Lady Merton would surely want to keep the child….Lord Merton would refuse….Lady Merton would be angry at her husband…he would be frustrated with her….the perfect plan! Mrs. Crane held her head high as she turned on her heel and walked towards the stairwell leading to the downstairs kitchens. Mr. Mead would be down soon to tell how the evening played out…and it was then that she would celebrate the beginning demise of Lord and Lady Merton's fairy tale.

"Whatever is the matter? Mrs. Crane said there was a baby that needed help…" Isobel rattled off, stopping short when she saw the bundle of blankets in the woman's arms.

"Mrs. Ingle has asked if there are any families we may know of that could take in this little one," Dickie explained, reaching out to grasp his wife's arm as she stalled at his side. "I have suggested Dr. Frederick may have a better idea than we."

"But surely we could…"

Dickie gently squeezed Isobel's arm, knowing exactly what she was contemplating. "My dear, Mrs. Ingle has had quite a long night. I think it would be best we let her get on to the hospital. Shall I have a car brought 'round, Mrs. Ingle?"

"Thank you, milord, but one of the young men from the village drove us up."

Dickie nodded and smiled at Mrs. Ingle before turning back to Isobel. Her eyes were fixated on Mrs. Ingle's burden and it took Dickie opening the large front door before she snapped out of her reverie.

"Then we will see you on Friday to discuss the school house," Dickie replied, bidding Mrs. Ingle a good night. She returned his farewell and also offered Isobel a kind 'good night' before walking out the door.

"Wait!" Isobel called, hurrying forward and catching up to the small woman.

Dickie hung his head, wishing he had fired the Housekeeper months ago. If Mrs. Crane had not told Isobel of the situation, Mrs. Ingle and the child would be on their way, and he would not have to fight with Isobel over keeping the child. Dickie turned and saw Timothy standing across the Hall, his hands stuffed in his pockets, pacing back and forth. He motioned for the young man to join him as he walked out of the house and met the women standing in the middle of the drive.

"Might I see the baby?" Isobel asked softly. Mrs. Ingle looked up and caught the defeated frown of Lord Merton. He sighed and nodded, though it was not without reservation. Once Isobel had hold of the child, there was little hope she would let go. ,

Carefully handing the small bundle over to Isobel's awaiting arms, Mrs. Ingle explained the situation to Lady Merton.

"She's a tiny lass, milady. Her mother died when she was born…and her father…well…he simply could not handle the child by himself. I'm afraid he took his own life this morning."

Isobel's head snapped up. "What?"

Sighing, Mrs. Ingle continued. "We found her in a basket on our doorstep at dawn. When I took her to the hospital with the note, a few men from the village were sent over to the farm to check on him. Dr. Frederick said there was no hope for the poor man, I'm afraid."

"How horrible," Isobel breathed, looking over to find Dickie and Timothy standing beside her. "We simply cannot send her to the hospital…not with her being so young and vulnerable to illness."

"But…"

"I am already a trained nurse and can care for her until we find someone else to help. I assume she has been drinking another kind of milk since her mother died?" Isobel asked, turning back to Mrs. Ingle.

"Yes, milady. Dr. Frederick said she was fine with cow's milk when he gave her some," Mrs. Ingle answered timidly, sensing a disagreement between Lord and Lady Merton was soon to ensue.

"Very well. Was there any other instruction Dr. Frederick gave?"

"He said she was about two and a half months old and just to care for her as we would any other infant. We've never had many infants, milady. I'm afraid…"

Isobel tightened her hold on the bundle with one arm and reached over to gently squeeze Mrs. Ingle's shoulder with the other. "I understand. And I'm sure we can help in this situation, seeing as though your resources are already overtaxed in the orphanage. Isn't that right, Lord Merton?"

She turned back to him, her look serious…her eyes pleading. Dickie looked away, knowing he should protest but simply unable to refuse when she looked at him like that.

He battled with himself…afraid to make the wrong choice. Was it right to deny her this? Dr. Clarkson had said he had some answers to Isobel's testing and that they needed to come in immediately…an appointment being set for the next day. It sounded quite serious…but surely the doctor would have told him if…

"Please…" she whispered, taking a step closer to him. His eyes dropped to the sleeping baby, the small bundle that seemed to fit perfectly in her arms. The little girl was incredibly tiny, and he knew Isobel's time would be devoted to nothing more than getting her back to full strength. Perhaps keeping his wife closer to home rather than running around the village to help the orphans and various charities would do her a bit of good.

"Very well," he replied with a sigh. "But we'd best inform Mrs. Crane to prepare a nursery. I'm sure that was not the consequence she was expecting."

As a wide smile graced both Isobel and Mrs. Ingle's lips, Timothy had to suppress his laughter. He could not wait to see the scowl on the Housekeeper's face when she heard of the extra work she was in for.

_Serves her right…_


	9. Chapter 9

Dr. Clarkson paced in front of his office door, hands clasped behind his back. He dreaded the conversation he was about to have; though he was unsure if waiting for Lord and Lady Merton to arrive or the actual subject of their meeting would be worse.

A sharp knock on his door brought him to a sudden stop. Turning, he took a deep breath and straightened his jacket. He plastered a smile across his face as he opened the door to find only a young nurse standing on the other side.

"Dr. Clarkson, Lord and Lady Merton have arrived. Shall I show them in?"

"If you please, Annie," he replied.

"Very good. Oh…and you might like to know…they have someone with them," she said before turning and walking down the hall.

The doctor supposed it might be Lord Merton's son or perhaps one of the Crawleys. He prayed it was not the Dowager…he had a feeling her harsh line of questioning would only make matters worse. He returned to stand in front of his desk when he heard footsteps approaching.

"Lord and Lady Merton, sir," Annie announced, stepping aside to let them pass. Dr. Clarkson stepped forward to shake Dickie's hand, quickly halting upon seeing who the "someone" Annie spoke of was.

He looked up and caught Lord Merton's tired eyes and the small shrug that came from the Baron.

"She insisted, and I could not refuse her," Dickie explained, looking over to offer a small grin for his wife and the bundle she held in her arms.

"But who does the babe belong to?" Dr. Clarkson asked, his eyes wide with wonder.

Isobel finally looked up from the baby's face to Dickie. He nodded to her, silently giving her permission to explain the details.

"She belongs to us…for now."

"She is underweight….but I think with proper nutrition and a steady schedule of feedings, she will still develop properly. Her structure is small so she shouldn't have much catching up to do," Dr. Clarkson said, smiling down at the baby girl. He wrapped her in the blanket and gently picked her up, carrying her over to where Lord and Lady Merton sat anxiously.

It was easy to see that Isobel had not forgotten how to properly care for an infant, her hand supporting the girl's delicate head as she took the bundle from Dr. Clarkson. The doctor stepped back and clasped his hands in front. He could not help but see the look of pride cross Lord Merton's face as he gazed at his wife, seemingly in awe of how an orphaned girl could fit perfectly in Isobel's arms.

"And you believe cow's milk to be the best? Or should we try some other form of supplement?" Isobel asked, her fingers gently pulling the blanket a bit tighter around the small baby.

"Since she has taken to it and knows no different, I would keep her on the milk. Why not bring her back in a few weeks and I'll check her weight? If she does not seem to be making any progress, we can look at other forms of nutrition."

Isobel nodded, thanking the doctor while brushing her fingers softly over the sleeping girl's head. Dickie turned to Richard who had now taken a seat behind his desk.

"Is there anything else you would recommend we do for her until a proper home is found?"

Dr. Clarkson looked up from writing a few notes and shook his head. "Just care for her as you would any other infant."

Dickie sighed and looked back to Isobel. "I'm afraid I am at a disadvantage when it comes to infants, Dr. Clarkson. We always had a nanny for the boys," he explained.

Isobel met her husband's gaze and smiled encouragingly to him. "I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"If I may….a Nanny might be a good idea," Richard said, leading in to the conversation he had worried over only an hour before. Both Dickie and Isobel turned to him, obviously confused by such a suggestion. Standing, Richard walked to the door and opened it, calling down the hall for a nurse.

Isobel turned to her husband, catching sight of the worry lines creasing around his eyes. She reached over to gently touch his arm, offering a smile of comfort to calm him. "We can care for her…with or without a Nanny. I'm sure of it."

But it was not the child that worried Lord Merton…rather, the real reason for their appointment today.

"Ah, Irene…would you please take the baby for Lady Merton? Perhaps you could sit with her in one of the empty rooms until we are finished?"

"Of course, Dr. Clarkson," the young nurse answered, stepping in to his office and over to Isobel. "Might I, milady?"

She held out her arms and smiled at Isobel. Isobel hesitantly handed over the baby, caressing the baby's cheek before Irene walked away with her. Without the baby in her arms, she suddenly felt at a loss. Sitting back in the chair, she clasped her hands together in her lap, trying not to worry about the baby…or how young and inexperienced Irene seemed to be.

The door shut with a quiet click, and Dr. Clarkson walked over to them. Dickie watched every move the doctor made and could tell the man was contemplating his next statement.

"I thought it might be best for Irene to take her for a bit…so that we can go over the details of why I asked you both to come today."

"I'll admit I have been very anxious since speaking with you yesterday, Doctor," Dickie said, glancing over at Isobel. She was silent, her fingers turning white in her lap as her hands wrung together. Looking back to Richard, he asked, "I suppose you have some answers from Lady Merton's testing?"

Dr. Clarkson nodded, taking a seat behind his desk. He crossed his arms and met the worried gaze of Dickie Merton. Before he spoke, he turned his eyes to Isobel, wishing he did not always have to be the bearer of bad news; first telling her Matthew was dead and now this…

"I do. I've had some colleagues review the results and the possible diagnoses. We have all come to the same conclusion after looking through the latest research and comparing many reports with Lady Merton's test results and symptoms."

"And…?" Dickie prodded, sitting forward in his seat.

Dr. Clarkson sighed and looked down. "I'm afraid that Lady Merton seems to be suffering from something called 'multiple sclerosis'."

Isobel's head shot up, her eyes wide with shock. Dickie looked between his wife and the doctor, clearly aware that Isobel understood the severity of such a diagnosis whereas he had no knowledge of it.

"And what does that mean, Doctor?" Dickie asked, his eyes now solely focused on his stunned wife.

"It is a disease which affects the central nervous system…the brain and the spine. The symptoms Lady Merton has been experiencing, such as the fatigue…neuropathy…dizziness…are all common signs of the disease. Unfortunately, it is not until we see these symptoms that we become aware of the severity of the problem."

"But this _is_ something you can cure?" Dickie asked, turning sharply to the doctor.

Dr. Clarkson looked down in shame. "Lord Merton…there are medications and treatments that can help Lady Merton's symptoms. And I have been reading and developing plans for what I feel will bring her strength back. But I'm afraid…I'm afraid no one has ever been cured."

Isobel looked down, biting her bottom lip to hold in her tears. She knew of this disease…there had been a few patients diagnosed with it over her years as a nurse. And their prognosis was never good…usually they died within a year or two. But it wasn't that she worried for herself; rather, the effect it would have on her husband and family concerned her the most.

Dickie's usually reserved demeanor was now replaced by a zealous anger, desperate for some shred of hope to cling to. He stood, hammering Dr. Clarkson with questions.

"Are you saying this 'multiple sclerosis' is fatal? That there is nothing more you can do?!"

"I will do all I can to stall the progress of the disease…" Richard began.

"I should hope so! Because I do not for one moment believe you cannot give her some medication to stop these bloody symptoms…surely we have come far enough in medical research for that!"

"It would seem to be that simple…but until we begin treatment, we will not know how Lady Merton will respond to medications, transfusions, therapies…."

"And how will you determine which method will be best for her? Make her a project…something to test out new treatments on?" Dickie countered.

The room went silent for a moment, Richard taking the time to choose his words carefully. He clasped his hands together, placing them on top of his desk as he sat forward. "Lord Merton, I will do everything I can to make Lady Merton as comfortable as possible. But I'm afraid that no matter what treatment we give…even if it works for a few months, maybe a year…it will not stop the disease. There is nothing we can do, with what we know now, to cure Lady Merton."

Dickie's breath caught in his throat, the shock of the doctor's words evident as the color drained from his face. Isobel reached forward and caught his hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

Dickie looked back quickly, his eyes softening with shame as he saw the unshed tears in his wife's eyes and her encouraging smile. Taking advantage of the momentary silence, Richard stood and came to stand in front of Dickie.

"I will be happy to discuss the treatment options at your convenience. But I understand this is quite a shock…perhaps it would be best if you took some time to discuss the situation with each other."

"Thank you, Dr. Clarkson," Isobel replied quietly, her eyes never leaving Dickie's. His head dropped in defeat before he turned back to Richard.

"Yes, thank you, Dr. Clarkson. Forgive my outburst. Is there something we should do to make sure Lady Merton…?"

Richard held up his hands, not wanting to further burden the distraught Baron. "No harm done…and there is no reason to believe we must take action immediately. Another few days of thought and a great deal of rest will not cause any undo harm."

Dickie nodded, turning back to Isobel and helping her stand. Keeping one hand tightly around hers, he reached forward with the other to shake Richard's.

"I freely admit that I do not understand how this can be, Dr. Clarkson. I will trust your judgment…and do all I can to make sure you have whatever resources you need to help Lady Merton."

Isobel took a small step forward, her arm brushing against her husband's. "We are grateful, Dr. Clarkson…truly."

Richard tried to keep his face devoid of any emotion, but her gratitude, when he had just given her a death sentence, overwhelmed him. He quickly looked down, taking a few deep breaths before straightening and clearing the lump from his throat. He stepped forward and nodded simply.

"I will do all I can…I assure you of that," he said, taking Isobel's free hand between both of his. He looked over to Dickie, nodding firmly. "I will not rest until we have exhausted all possibilities."

With a heavy heart, he showed them out of his office and to the front entrance of the hospital. Not a moment later, Irene came down the hall, quietly hushing the small baby in her arms.

"I think she's a bit tired, milady," Irene said, smiling to Isobel. "She took almost 3 ounces of milk but has been unsettled since."

The young nurse carefully handed over the baby, grateful to have met the calm smile of Lady Merton rather than a look of dissatisfaction. Like an expert, Isobel pulled the child close, readjusting the blanket and rubbing her fingers across the baby's forehead. Not a moment later, the cries quieted and the little girl fell fast asleep.

Dr. Clarkson chuckled, looking back to Irene. "It seems Lady Merton has quite the touch," he said quietly.

"She does favor you, milady," Irene replied, offering one more smile to the Baroness before excusing herself.

Dr. Clarkson held the door open for them as they stepped outside. Both he and Dickie guided Isobel down the stairs, making sure the small bundle in her arms did not cause her to misstep. The chauffeur opened the back door to the car and stepped aside. Before getting in, Isobel turned back to thank the doctor once more.

"Thank you, Dr. Clarkson…for everything," she said softly, smiling down to the small girl.

"We will be in touch," Dickie said gravely. His look was the exact opposite of his wife's…his lips set in a straight line and his eyes dark with worry.

Richard shook Dickie's hand once more, hoping to offer some encouragement to the distraught man. "Whenever you're ready…and I can come to Cavenham to discuss the treatments. Your hands are quite full with the little lass."

Dickie attempted a smile and thanked the doctor before helping Isobel in to the car. He settled himself beside her, waving to Dr. Clarkson as the chauffeur pulled away from the hospital. The doctor slowly walked back in to the hospital, shaking his head with frustration and sadness.

And in the car, conversation was all but forgotten. Dickie looked out the window, trying to maintain his composure and rid his mind of worry. How could this have happened? They had not even been married a year! How could he lose the one woman he loved when he had just found her?

He felt his arm being moved and her fingers tangling with his as she shifted closer to him. Sighing, he raised her hand to his lips and finally looked over at her. The baby was nestled in her left arm, sleeping peacefully. But her eyes were no longer on the girl…they were now staring up at him, her concern evident as the lines across her forehead and around her eyes deepened considerably.

"Are you all right?" she whispered, not wishing the chauffeur to overhear.

He nodded, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of her head. She leaned her head against his shoulder, wishing this moment was as peaceful as it seemed to the naked eye.

For Isobel, it was a past memory of happiness suddenly coming to life once more. Thirty years had passed since she'd had a husband by her side and held a new baby close. Such a moment she never dreamed would happen again, and she was more than grateful for the chance to feel such love after so many years had passed.

If only this contentment was not overshadowed with an all-consuming fear of the unknown…

If only.


	10. Chapter 10

"Elsa, wait a moment please," Mr. Mead called. The young lady's maid turned and smiled to the Butler as he met her by the staircase.

"How can I help, Mr. Mead?" she asked, shifting the small pile of blankets she held from one arm to the other.

"You are heading up to the nursery?"

"Yes. I told Mrs. Crane I would bring these up when they were dry. The other maids and I thought it best to have quite a few blankets on hand…what with the girl being so small. She's likely to catch a chill if she's not bundled properly."

Mead smiled kindly and nodded. "Very good. I wonder if you would give Mrs. Crane a message?"

"Of course."

Mead looked over his shoulder to make sure no other footmen or maids were in sight. Lowering his voice, he took a step closer to Elsa. "Please tell Mrs. Crane to keep her comments about the baby to herself. I would not want Lord or Lady Merton to overhear."

Elsa's eyes widened slightly.

"She was very agitated last night when she was told the girl would be staying. And with Lady Merton being…well…I think you know what I mean," Mead whispered. "I daresay her comments would upset both of them unnecessarily."

Elsa nodded. "Yes, quite right. I will be sure to give her the message. I think she was upstairs last I saw her."

"Very good. They are due back any time….it might be best to tell her before they arrive."

"Thank you, Mr. Mead. Was there anything else?"

"No, that will be all. But I do appreciate the extra work you are putting in," he said kindly.

She smiled to him and hurried up the stairs. He breathed a sigh of relief and prayed she would find Mrs. Crane before the car arrived back from the hospital; for if Lord Merton ever heard the things Mrs. Crane said last night, she would be lucky if it was only her job she lost.

* * *

"What do you mean, 'keep my comments to myself'?!" Mrs. Crane exclaimed, dropping the sheet she was folding and crossing her arms angrily.

Elsa looked down, running her hand nervously over the blankets she held. "I suppose he wants to be sure that Lord and Lady Merton do not hear anything negative about the baby. They had an important appointment this morning, and he fears upsetting them."

"Upsetting them? What about how Lady Merton has upset this household?!" the Housekeeper countered, reaching down for the sheet and hastily folding it.

Stuffing the haphazardly folded linen in the cupboard, she slammed the doors shut and turned back to the timid lady's maid. "Ever since she came here, she has had a constant disregard for the way I run this house! She wants this changed and that done…without ever stopping to ask my opinion!"

"But…."

"And to place Lord Merton in the same class as a commoner is utterly disgraceful!"

"A commoner?" Elsa asked, jumping as the Housekeeper quickly moved forward and pointed a finger in her face.

"Yes, a commoner! A poor orphan staying in a grand house may be fine for Downton Abbey but it will _**NEVER **_be respected at Cavenham Place!" Whirling around, Mrs. Crane crossed her arms and began pacing back and forth in front of Elsa.

"But Mrs. Crane, surely you must see how much better it is for the child…" Elsa began, trying to reason with the woman.

"She probably brings disease with her…and nothing good ever comes of an orphan! They all end up thieves and murderers. Mark my words; she'll be a devil as soon as she's able to walk!"

"Mrs. Crane!"

"She will be! And will probably be just as devious as Mrs. Crawley."

Elsa's eyes narrowed in anger. "Mrs. Crane…you'd best never let Lord Merton hear you say that."

"He cannot deny who she really is! A poor widow who only married him for his money and a position…and who has made him the laughing stock of the entire county!"

"You are wrong!" Elsa said, suddenly feeling very defensive of Lady Merton. If nothing else, she was the kindest woman Elsa had ever met…and she'd never known Lord Merton to be as happy as when he was in her company.

"I hear quite a different story from the cook at our London House," Mrs. Crane said with a wicked grin. "She has heard that some of Lord Merton's friends are placing bets on how long it will take him to kick her out of the house, pleading for refuge at Downton."

"That is utterly wretched! How could they say such things?!"

Elsa could barely stand to hear any more. She moved towards the door but was stopped by Mrs. Crane's fingers digging in to her arm.

"She is not as kind as you think. And if you're not careful, she will poison your mind…just as she has Lord Merton's."

A Cheshire cat grin formed once more as the Housekeeper took a moment before emphasizing her next point. "I have already written to the editor of the London Times…I'm sure my twist on this story will be the end of the new _**Lady**_Merton."

Elsa's eyes grew in horror as the Housekeeper chuckled under her breath, releasing the girl's arm and turning back to the window.

"We shall see how well she deals with society's opinions once it's published. Perhaps she will find she wasn't up for the role of Baroness over our county."

"What have you done?!" Elsa cried, moving forward to stand directly in front of the Housekeeper. "Tell me!"

"Don't you find it rather odd that Lord Merton took the conversation with Mrs. Ingle by himself…and that she brought the child here? I hear from villagers he has spent quite a bit of time in meetings with the women running the orphanage…perhaps Lady Merton is trying to conceal her husband's infidelity and hold on to her title at the same. Her taking in his bastard child would be all she needed to hold over his head and keep her role as a Baroness."

Elsa stood stunned in silence. Mrs. Crane pressed her lips together and nodded. "You see how it could be turned now, don't you? Best make sure Lady Merton has her headache powders when that story hits the papers…she'll be in bed for a week!"

The Housekeeper took the pile of blankets from Elsa who stood motionless, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Not to worry dear. You'll still have a job as head housemaid once she's gone." Taking the blankets, she winked at Elsa and turned towards the cupboard.

But it was the deceitful Housekeeper who halted in her tracks as the door opened, admitting Lord and Lady Merton to the nursery.

"It seems you have been quite busy, Mrs. Crane."


	11. Chapter 11

"I am ever so sorry, milady…for everything Mrs. Crane said," Elsa said softly, handing Isobel a bottle for the baby. Isobel did not respond, simply smiled down at the young girl and sighed in relief when she started drinking. It had been a fight for the baby to take to the bottle…so much so that Isobel could guarantee her father had not been feeding her properly.

Leaning back against the headboard, Isobel offered Elsa a small smile. "I suppose she is entitled to her opinions."

"Milady…I don't for a moment believe her lies…and I know that the village and Lord Merton's friends have only spoken kind words in your favor," Elsa said with determination.

"Thank you, Elsa," Isobel replied softly.

Elsa nodded and smiled. "Might there be anything I can get for either of you?"

"Oh, we'll be fine until Lord Merton returns."

"I could fetch some tea if you like."

"No, dear, but thank you," Isobel answered.

The young lady's maid could see the fatigue playing across Isobel's face. Knowing that Lord Merton had sent for Mr. Mead to meet him and Mrs. Crane in the nursery, she worried that there would be no place for Isobel to lay the baby down. Since the poor woman had been carrying her all day and was tired herself….perhaps…

"I've an idea, milady. Will you allow me to bring a surprise for both you and the little one?"

Isobel did not want Elsa to go to any trouble, but she knew she should not refuse…especially seeing the way Elsa's eyes had lit up.

"If you wish…" Isobel replied, laughing softly as Elsa hurried out, promising to be back as soon as she could.

Isobel again rested her head on the headboard, her eyes struggling to stay open while the baby's soon closed. She'd only had about an ounce of the milk, but Isobel did not want to prod her with more. The young girl's system was far too delicate. Setting the bottle to the side, Isobel lifted the girl to her shoulder, patting her back gently to soothe her in to a deep, restful sleep.

A few moments later, there was a small knock at the door.

"Milady, it's just me," Elsa said, walking in and quieting when she saw the baby fast asleep. "And just in time it seems."

Isobel's brow furrowed in confusion as Elsa opened the door wide and stepped back in to the hall. She heard a small scuffle, followed by Elsa and another maid carrying in a beautiful wooden cradle.

"Where ever did you find that?" Isobel asked in awe of the gorgeous piece of carpentry. The maids put the cradle down by Isobel's side of the bed.

"I had a feeling Mrs. Crane did not pull everything out of the attics," Elsa explained, nodding to the other maid who quickly left the room. "June and I went searching this morning after you left and found this and some other things that we think would be helpful. I've had the hall boys store them in the room next to the nursery for now."

"How lovely of you. Please thank June and the boys for me," Isobel replied, gently sliding off the bed. She put her hand behind the baby's head and leaned down, softly placing her on the blankets in the cradle. Both she and Elsa held their breath a moment as the little girl stirred, but then quickly fell back asleep.

"I think she likes it," Elsa said with a smile.

Isobel clasped her hands in front and nodded, her eyes still focused on the baby. "Yes, I'd say so."

"I hope you don't mind my bringing this in here….but I thought that you might like a bit of a rest yourself. And then you can have her close by until the nursery is….unoccupied."

Elsa closed her mouth tightly and looked down, afraid to bring up the matter of Lord Merton, Mr. Mead and Mrs. Crane being in the nursery at the moment. She felt a gentle hand on her arm and looked up to find Isobel standing beside her.

"It is the perfect solution until we can find a Nanny to help throughout the day. Thank you, Elsa," she said softly. Turning, she sat slowly on the bed, pushing herself back against the headboard again. "And I think you might be right…a bit of rest should do us both some good."

Elsa nodded and hurried to draw the curtains shut. As the room darkened, she gathered a blanket and laid it over Isobel's legs before turning off the bedside lamp.

"Anything else I can help with, milady?"

"You've done more than enough today, Elsa. Take the evening off," Isobel answered, though her eyes were already closed.

"Oh but…"

Isobel raised her hand to interrupt the maid. "I insist. From the way things seem now, we might not even make it down for dinner tonight."

"Of course, milady. I will bring up a tray if you like."

"No, no…I'll be fine. Just make sure to wake me tomorrow morning by 7, hm?"

"Very good, milady. Rest well," Elsa replied softly. She tiptoed out of the room, softly closing the door behind her.

Quickly moving to the back staircase, she hurried to the servants' hall where the rest of the staff sat….anxiously awaiting news from the Butler and Housekeeper.

* * *

"Milord, please…."

"You have absolutely no right to judge my marriage to Lady Merton, nor her character and decisions. Since you are my _employee_…someone I pay good money to run this household…there is no place for your personal opinions in conversation with the other staff. Is that not correct?"

"Well yes, but…"

"And while you may not always agree with how I run this estate, it is _my_ house…and I shall run it any way I see fit!" Dickie exclaimed, clasping his hands behind his back in exasperation. It was all he could do to contain himself to an angry glare…truly wishing he could reach out and strangle the bloody woman.

The Housekeeper looked down…hating the fact she had been caught. If only she had taken the message from Elsa and left it at that….

"Mead, when did the post go out today?"

"About an hour ago, milord," Mead replied quietly, his angry glare matching that of his employer's as he glanced over at the Housekeeper.

"I would ask that you ring up the postmaster and request any letters from Cavenham Place be returned at once. If we are lucky, we will intercept the fraudulent note Mrs. Crane chose to send to London."

"Right away, milord."

Dickie held up a hand, stalling the Butler. "If you will wait a moment, Mead, I would like you here as a witness…and to keep me from completely losing my sense of self."

Mrs. Crane looked up, her eyes wide, as Lord Merton came toward her.

"You have disregarded all sense of duty and loyalty to this family, and I am ashamed I did not leave you go before now. You _will _leave tonight. Mead will see that you are paid what you are due…but you will receive no reference from this household. And should I ever… _**ever **_hear that you have spoken out against Lady Merton again…you can be sure the consequences will be far worse than this."

His voice was surprisingly calm and steady but the tone low enough to invoke a sense of fear in the devious Housekeeper. She bit her lip to avoid any tears falling as she met his glare.

"Milord, please…"

"Get out of my house," he growled.

Mead opened the nursery door and motioned for her to leave. With head hanging, the former Housekeeper walked out with a heavy sigh. Turning to protest once more, she was cut off by the door slamming shut in her face.


	12. Chapter 12

It felt as though she had only been asleep for a moment or two when she heard soft cries beside her. As Isobel pushed herself up, she saw Dickie was already standing over the cradle, helplessly looking down at the upset baby.

"Dickie…"

Dickie looked up sharply, not expecting Isobel to be awake.

"I'm sorry…I wasn't quite sure how to calm her down," he said.

Isobel laughed softly, sliding out from under the blanket. "It's all right. I'll get her. What time is it?"

Dickie looked at his pocket watch. "After eight."

"Eight! Goodness, she is probably hungry," Isobel said, making sure her legs were steady before she leaned down and picked up the little girl.

Dickie stepped forward and held her by the elbows as she slowly straightened her legs.

"Thank you," she said softly, analyzing his features for any clue as to how his discussion with Mr. Mead and Mrs. Crane had gone.

"Shall I ring for a bottle?"

Isobel nodded and laid the baby on the bed, pulling her out of the cocoon of blankets surrounding her small form. The girl stopped crying and opened her eyes, looking up at Isobel and offering a small "coo."

"That's better, isn't it darling?" Isobel asked softly, brushing her fingers across the girl's cheek.

The baby cooed once more and stretched her arms up. Isobel caught both of the tiny hands in hers and rubbed them softly. But she jumped slightly when a pair of hands fell on her waist. Turning to look over her shoulder, she smiled as Dickie leaned forward and gave her a small kiss.

"I am quite lucky to see you as a Mother…it is obvious why Matthew grew in to a fine young man," he whispered, allowing his fingers to rub up and down her sides. A lump quickly formed in her throat as she turned her face away, not wanting him to see the tears welling in her eyes.

Dickie, having learned quite a bit about Isobel's silent responses in the months since they were married, simply pulled her back gently and wrapped his arms around her waist. Setting his chin on her shoulder, he smiled down at the baby who was looking up at both he and Isobel with great interest.

"She does seem a keen little thing, doesn't she?"

"Yes, she does," Isobel answered softly, swallowing her tears and resting her cheek against Dickie's. "Do you think she'll be all right?"

He chuckled. "I thought you were the Nurse."

She turned her head enough that she could catch his eye. She couldn't help but smile at the grin he fixed her with. "Cheeky," she replied with a wink.

There was a knock on the door, startling the baby from her peaceful moment. She began to cry again as Dickie walked around the bed to open the door.

"You rang, milord?" a young maid asked tentatively.

"Yes…would you have a bottle fixed for the young girl?"

"Of course…would you also like anything brought up for dinner, milord? Mrs. Simpson said she is happy to prepare anything for you and Her Ladyship."

Dickie looked over to Isobel who had picked up the baby and was rocking her back and forth. She caught his eye and shook her head. He sighed and turned back to the maid.

"Just a tea tray will be fine. And Master Timothy…has he returned?"

"Yes, milord. He did not want to disturb or interfere, so he said he would see you in the morning."

"Fine…thank you," Dickie replied, shutting the door when the maid walked away. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked a few steps toward his wife.

"Are you sure you don't want anything, dear? You haven't had anything proper to eat all day," he said, trying to keep the worry out of his voice.

"No…I'm fine," she replied, hushing the baby who was now openly crying despite Isobel's efforts.

Dickie could stand it no longer…Isobel should be resting, as Dr. Clarkson said…not doing all of this walking and carrying. He moved forward, removed his hands from his pockets and put them on both of her shoulders.

"Why not let me give it a go?" he asked, looking down at the young girl. "You can make sure I'm holding her properly."

Isobel made to protest, but she could see he meant what he said. She gently placed the baby in his arms as he sat down on the end of the bed. She fetched a fresh blanket and came to sit beside him, placing the blanket around the whimpering infant.

The poor man looked quite uneasy, his arms rigid while the baby cried.

"You're doing just fine," Isobel whispered, laying her hand over his.

Her touch relaxed him a bit and his shoulders dropped, allowing the baby to curl in to his chest. He laughed softly as the young girl yawned and nuzzled her head against his coat, her cries calming.

"It does not take much to please her, does it?" he asked, turning his face to his wife.

"Just a little love and care is all," she replied, leaning forward to press her lips against his.

A soft coo from the baby broke them apart, both looking down with a smile at the infant. She was watching the couple intently, her face softening when she saw she was again the center of their attention. A hint of a smile flashed over her little lips.

"She smiled!" Dickie exclaimed, his eyes wide with joy as he turned to face Isobel.

"It must mean you're doing a fine job," she answered, tucking her hands through the crook of his arm and leaning her cheek against his shoulder.

"Do you think we should give her a name?" he asked after a few moments.

When he heard no reply, he looked over and saw Isobel had fallen fast asleep. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head and then looked back at the baby. She was still eyeing him intently.

"Well, my dear, what shall we call you, hm?"


	13. Chapter 13

"Father…how are you?"

Timothy met his father in the library the next morning, hoping the news from Dr. Clarkson had not been anything too upsetting. But when he saw the grim look on Dickie's face, he feared his hopes were soon to be dashed.

"It has been a long few days, Timothy. Please sit," Dickie said, motioning for his son to join him.

Timothy took a chair across from Dickie, remaining silent to allow Dickie to explain things when he felt he was ready.

"You know we went to see Dr. Clarkson yesterday."

"Yes…I hope you did not think me uninterested last night by not inquiring about the appointment. I felt it better to leave you and Isobel some time if you needed it." ?

Dickie smiled. "Thank you for that. In all honesty, last night consisted of conversation about everything _but_ our visit with Dr. Clarkson."

Timothy's face dropped in to a frown. "I'm not sure I follow…"

Dickie stood and clasped his hands behind his back, walking over to look out the large bay window. "Dr. Clarkson said the baby will be fine with proper nutrition and care. But he did suggest a Nanny…I know Isobel was against it at first, but I think she has come 'round to the need for one. We will put out an advertisement today, along with one for a Housekeeper."

Timothy's mouth dropped open. "Housekeeper? You mean Mrs. Crane is…"

"Gone. I left her go last night…though I should have done so long ago." Dickie turned back and knew he should explain upon seeing the look of shock on Timothy's face. "Mrs. Crane made it a point to speak her mind in regards to Isobel, the baby and how she had written to the London papers detailing a preposterous story to ruin our marriage."

"Good God! What did she say…and what gave her the notion she had any right to do so?"

"Evil intent I suppose. But no matter….she is gone and her letter filled with lies and rumor was intercepted before it reached the London Times. One problem solved by introducing another…the urgent need for a Housekeeper."

"Indeed…though the house may run better without her in it."

"Quite right," Dickie said, taking his seat once more. Clasping his hands together, he took a moment to think through his next piece of information before meeting his son's concerned gaze.

"For now, we are going to keep the baby here. I think it will be good for Isobel to have something to focus on while at home. I know it will keep her quite busy…but with a Nanny and the maids to help, she will get more rest than if she continues running all over the county on behalf of the orphanage."

Timothy nodded. "A good thought indeed. Has she agreed to it?"

"Oh yes…she is smitten with the child," Dickie replied. Timothy saw this was the first true smile his father had offered that morning and wondered if it was simply for Isobel that the child was staying…or if it was also because Dickie had taken a liking to the little thing.

"Then I think it is a fine plan. Will you still search for someone to adopt her?"

"In time…once she has regained her full strength and started to develop as the doctor would like."

"And Dr. Clarkson looked her over? When you went to see him about Isobel's tests?"

Dickie cleared his throat and sat back, his hands now gripping the arms of the chair. "Yes…about Isobel's testing…"

The door opened and Mead walked in, interrupting the conversation.

"I apologize milord, but there is a telephone call for you. Lady Mary from Downton Abbey."

"Ah, good. I'll be right there, Mead," Dickie answered as he stood.

"Very good, milord."

As Mead walked out of the room, Dickie moved to follow. Timothy stood and caught his Father's arm before he could exit.

"Father…the news was not good, was it? About Isobel?"

Dickie looked down and sighed. "I'll explain more when Mary arrives. I've called and asked her to come for tea this afternoon. But to answer you simply….no, the news was not good."

And with that, Dickie walked out of the room, leaving Timothy alone in silence.

"What on Earth is multiple sclerosis?" Mary asked, her tea cup clanging to the saucer as she looked back and forth between her godfather and mother-in-law.

"Yes…is this something you've ever heard of in your work, Isobel?" Timothy asked.

It surprised him how concerned he was about Isobel, a woman whom he hated when he first met her. But now, she had shown that she cared about not only his father but about him as well. She always asked after his lady friend, Miss Butler, and wanted to be sure Timothy had everything he needed when he visited Cavenham.

"Yes, I've known of a few patients with the diagnosis," Isobel replied, forcing a small smile to both he and Mary. "I'm sure it will be all right. Dr. Clarkson has some treatment options to go over with us."

"But what will the treatments entail?" Mary asked. "Will you be able to stay here or are they in London?"

"He did not say," Dickie answered. "We plan on meeting him in the next day or so to go over more details."

"But he is confident these treatments will work, isn't he?"

Dickie had not seen Mary vulnerable often; in fact, he could probably count those times on one hand. But now, he could hear a slight waver in her voice and wondered if she wasn't as fearful as he about the situation.

"He feels that the treatments will help the symptoms she is experiencing, yes."

Dickie cast a smile to Isobel, reaching his hand under the table to feel for hers. She clasped on to his hand tightly when his fingers brushed hers, grateful for his strong support during such an uncomfortable conversation.

"So there is no medication to cure the ailment?" Timothy asked.

"Unfortunately, there is not," Isobel explained. "But I'm sure whatever treatment or therapy he suggests will be helpful with the symptoms."

"You're sure?" Mary countered.

She had known Isobel long enough to see when she was upset or nervous. And she had also learned well in her thirty some years to read between the lines. As such, she was quite certain Lord and Lady Merton were not relaying the whole story of her mother-in-law's illness.

Isobel looked from Mary to Dickie, her eyes silently begging him for help. She could not lie to Mary and Timothy…they were old enough to understand the situation and had a right to know. But she didn't know if she could find the words…

"If the treatments do not work, Dr. Clarkson feels Isobel's symptoms will worsen with time," Dickie said quietly. "And at that point, there will be nothing more he can do."

Isobel looked out the window, attempting to maintain a strong front. Dickie squeezed her hand, his eyes fixated solely on her…to make sure she was all right. Mary and Timothy sat in silence, both quite shaken with the news. When Isobel looked back, she forced a smile to them both.

"But Dr. Clarkson has been reading about the latest research and has good hopes for it. So I'm sure it will not come to something as drastic as all that."

Mary's mouth was still hanging open slightly, for once not knowing how to respond. Timothy cleared his throat and sat forward.

"Isobel….Father…whatever happens, I would like to be helpful…as I'm sure Mary would as well. Please tell me what I can do to make things easier for you."

Dickie smiled genuinely to his son. "Thank you, Timothy. That is much appreciated. We should know more after we hear Dr. Clarkson's plan."

"We should cancel dinner this weekend," Mary said quietly.

"Oh, please don't!" Isobel exclaimed. "We are so looking forward to having you all come to visit."

Mary hated to insist, but she did not want to weaken Isobel's resolve any more than necessary.

"Timothy told me your Housekeeper is now gone…and with your needing to start treatments, we would only be an imposition."

Isobel looked down, no longer able to keep tears from welling. Dickie, still holding tight to her hand, thought it best to intervene.

"Why don't we see how things progress after Dr. Clarkson's visit? I daresay he would agree seeing the family, especially little George and Marigold, would be a splendid way to keep all of our spirits up."

Mary cocked her head to the side, silently questioning him on the matter. Dickie nodded his assurance to both Mary and Timothy before turning back to Isobel.

"We will ring Downton on Thursday to make sure there is enough time to change plans if we must. But I think, for now, we should keep dinner on the calendar. What do you think, Isobel?"

He gently tugged on his wife's hand, forcing her to look in his direction. He offered a smile and nod, silently letting her know it would be all right.

Timothy watched their silent exchange with curiosity…he had never seen his parents communicate in such a way as his father now did with his stepmother. He was amazed that it only took a small change in Dickie's features for Isobel to calm and even offer a small smile. Mary also seemed intrigued by their relationship, though she bowed her head to allow them a moment.

It wasn't long before Isobel breathed out a small sigh and nodded to her husband. "Quite right. We'll take it one day at a time, I suppose."

Dickie's smile brightened as he turned to the younger generation. "That settles it. Now, let's discuss a happier subject, hm? Mary, I want to hear what George and Marigold are planning for their horses."

Mary had to swallow her anxiety and yearn to ask more questions regarding Isobel's diagnosis. Instead, she pushed her fears aside and detailed the housing arrangements George and Marigold had decided on…and how the groundskeeper was none too keen about building stalls in Downton's nursery!


	14. Chapter 14

_**Two Weeks Later- Early May 1926**_

"Yes, Dr. Clarkson please," Dickie spoke in to the telephone receiver, pacing back and forth while waiting for the nurse to find the doctor.

It had been a week since Isobel had started a new medication Dr. Clarkson recommended. And while Isobel had been obedient in doing what Dr. Clarkson recommended, her body was not responding well. If anything, she was growing weaker and more fatigued each day.

Elsa had been quite the stalwart figure throughout; helping Dickie to care for Isobel and getting them both anything they needed. She had even set up interviews for a Nanny while Mead had taken on the task of finding a few candidates for Housekeeper. Dickie looked at his pocket watch and saw he was to meet with Mead and a candidate for Nanny in less than an hour. Cursing under his breath, he stuck the watch back in his coat.

"Lord Merton…this is Dr. Clarkson," the voice on the other end said.

"Ah, Dr. Clarkson….yes, I'm afraid Lady Merton is not doing well at all with this new medication. It only seems to be making her worse than before. She asked me not to bother you, saying it would take a few days to work, but I am not so patient as she," Dickie explained, running a hand nervously over his head.

"I see. What symptoms has she experienced?" the doctor asked.

Dickie rattled off a long list of Isobel's ailments, never hearing the door open and close behind him. Timothy held a finger to his lips as he looked at his friend, Elizabeth Butler, not wanting her to say anything to disturb his father's obviously important conversation. The two sat on the settee while Dickie continued staring out the window, listening to Dr. Clarkson's explanation.

"Yes…yes, we will try that. And when will we know if this is working?"

Elizabeth looked to Timothy and whispered, "Has the new medicine not been helpful?"

Timothy shook his head but remained silent and focused on his father. He was hoping to deduce what all had happened since he'd been in London, as the short conversations he'd had with his Father since had given no indication of how serious things seemed to be.

"Monday…of course….yes, I will do that. Thank you, Dr. Clarkson. It is most appreciated….Goodbye," Dickie said, hanging up the phone slowly. One hand came to his waist as the other covered his face.

"Damn," he whispered in frustration before turning towards the door. However, he stopped short when he saw his son and Miss Butler sitting in front of him.

"Father…is everything all right?" Timothy asked, standing and nodding toward Elizabeth. "We arrived, and Mead said you were in here. We did not feel it right to interrupt such a serious conversation."

Dickie forced a smile and clapped Timothy on the shoulder. "We'll be all right. Elizabeth, how good to see you. Isobel will be so pleased you are here."

"I hope it is not an inconvenience in any way…" the young woman said, standing to accept a kiss from Dickie on the cheek. "If you think it best, we can head back to London. I wouldn't want…"

"Now, my dear, you know that if I agreed to that, Lady Merton would have my head. She's just hit a bit of a rough patch…but Dr. Clarkson has offered a few suggestions that should have her back in top form soon."

Elizabeth nodded, looking over to Timothy. "Perhaps we should unpack and give you some time?"

"I do have an interview in a bit with a potential Nanny…I suppose Timothy told you of our new charge?"

Timothy smiled, as did Elizabeth. "Yes, we discussed it on the train. And don't worry; Elizabeth has agreed to keep the matter private."

"Thank you, dear. With everything going on, we would not want to allow room for gossips to weave a tale…you never know who might be holding a grudge," Dickie said.

He led them to the door and called for one of the young footmen. "Would you help Master Timothy and Miss Butler to their rooms?"

"Of course, milord."

The young man hurried off to fetch the luggage. Dickie looked at his pocket watch once more.

"I'm afraid I do need to get on. Why don't you stop in and see the little one before luncheon? She usually naps in the afternoon, so you might get to see her awake. Elsa was sitting with her for a bit."

"That would be lovely…if you think it all right?" Elizabeth asked timidly.

"I do, and I know Isobel would love to hear your thoughts on the baby," Dickie said, giving Elizabeth another kiss on the cheek. "Now, I must be off. I will see you at luncheon."

With that, Lord Merton hurried up the staircase, leaving Timothy and Elizabeth standing in the Great Hall.

"I'm concerned," Timothy said softly. "There is more to this than he is saying."

"Quite right," Elizabeth replied, "but it won't do to press him as soon as we arrive. Let's ease in to a conversation gently."

Timothy smiled, leaning over and placing a small kiss on Elizabeth's cheek. "I am lucky to have you with me…your sense will keep me on point this weekend."

Elizabeth blushed as they followed the footmen up the stairs. _I do hope so, Timothy Grey. _


	15. Chapter 15

Isobel shivered and pulled the blanket up a bit to rest over her stomach. The large shawl covering her shoulders was doing no good, but she was sure the fire would soon warm her through. She now rested on the chaise lounge, as her legs threatened to give out beneath her if she tried to cross all the way to the window seat from her bed.

She heard the door open and smiled upon seeing her husband quietly enter.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the lounge. He leaned forward and gave her a small kiss, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. "You're quite pale."

"I'll be all right," she replied softly. "Have you had your meeting?"

"Yes…I think she is a fine candidate. But we need not worry about that now. You should get some sleep."

"But Timothy and Elizabeth are to be here soon…or have they already arrived?"

"They have and they asked after you, of course. I told them you might see them at luncheon….or later this afternoon," he said after a second thought. Luncheon was to be served in less than an hour and from the way Isobel was shaking, he didn't think she would be down in the dining room any time soon.

She took his hand in hers and smiled weakly. "Perhaps for tea this afternoon," she replied, hoping to calm his worry. "And they've seen the baby?"

"Yes, they were going to unpack and then have a short visit with her before her nap."

Isobel nodded and sighed. "I'm sorry I could not be there to help with the interview. You truly think this girl is capable?"

"I do. She has no children of her own but is the eldest of seven brothers and sisters. I think that speaks to the amount of experience she has," he replied with a chuckle.

Isobel's eyes lit up a bit. "Yes, I'd say so. And she is educated?"

"Indeed. Her mother was the town's schoolteacher. I will make sure you meet her when she returns to meet the baby," he assured her, raising her hand to his lips. "Now, you need to rest. Would you like to stay here or shall I help you to bed?"

"Here I think…the fire is nice," she answered, looking over in to the burning embers. "You're sure she is quite competent for the job?"

"Mead felt the same, and you did approve her application, my dear."

Surprised, she looked back to him. "I did? Goodness, I don't remember."

Dickie looked down, trying to hide his disappointment. "I'm afraid the past few days have been a bit of a whirlwind for you. But hopefully, we will have you feeling much better soon."

She let go of his hand and reached over to brush her fingers down his cheek. "I'm sorry to worry you so."

He clasped her hand between his before she could pull it away, gently pulling her against his chest. He kissed the top of her head that now fell under his chin.

"My dear…I only worry because I care. And that's the reason I've rung up Dr. Clarkson."

He felt her tense immediately, her eyes glaring in to his as she sat up straight. Confusion was etched in her features. "I thought we agreed to give it more time."

Dickie's head hung in shame, his fingers gently kneading the tight muscles of her arms. "Darling…I know what we said….but you have been getting worse each day. Your strength is so far gone you can hardly walk ten paces. Please do not be angry…I only called him because I am concerned."

She looked away, her eyes filling with frustrated tears. "And just what has he said?"

"To continue this medication and call him with a report on Monday. He would like to see if you feel a bit better this weekend. If not, he will determine another course of action."

A bit nervous, Isobel looked down and began playing with the edge of her shawl. "Anything else?"

Dickie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He wants you to stay in bed this weekend…and to stop all work on the school house renovation."

Her eyes creased, the thin line of her lips signaling her frustration was heightened. "I fail to see how my going over figures and volunteer assignments for the renovation would be detrimental to my health!"

She leaned against the back of the lounge, her arms crossing and eyes closing.

"This is not how it was supposed to be," she whispered, shaking her head back and forth. "I'm so sorry, Dickie…."

He shifted closer to her and put his hands on her cheeks, coaxing her eyes open. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before whispering back, "There is no need….just a small bump in the road, nothing more."

Catching her eyes, he repeated, "Nothing more. All right?"

She sighed softly, allowing her arms to uncross and her stature to relax some. "All right."

He wanted to do all he could to encourage her. For if one thing was for sure, Isobel was not one to sit idly by while others cared for her. He understood how frustrated she was but hoped it would not make her shut him out nor push him away.

His thoughts were broken as he felt her lips on his cheek. "At least this will give me time to think over your ideas for our little one's name."

Dickie chuckled. "Indeed."

He held her close, tightening his grip before she could lean back. Needing a bit of reassurance himself, his lips found hers. And reassurance he received when her arms wound around his back and her lips opened to his.

"Mm…I've missed you," he whispered in her ear before placing lingering kisses down to her collarbone.

She smiled, biting her bottom lip as his lips touched a sensitive spot below her jaw. How she hated that they had been so busy with the new baby and her health to not have time for each other. Dickie had been so wonderful to her…and all she could give him was a worn out body good for nothing other than lying in bed all day.

Dickie pulled back, having felt her body shudder beneath him. "Have I hurt you?" he asked with worry.

Tears filled her eyes as she placed a hand on his cheek. "No…no not at all. Dickie, you've been so good to me. And I am such a disappointment…"

"Don't," he interrupted, placing his fingers on her lips. "You are and never will be a disappointment, Isobel Grey. And I won't allow you to forget it."

His lips crashed down on hers, his hands moving to squeeze her waist gently. She moaned quietly as his tongue slid across her lips. Her fatigue quickly dissipated as Dickie's kisses grew in intensity. Her hands slipped from his arms to grip the edge of the chaise, her balance suddenly unsteady. He tightened his hold on her and moved from her lips to her neck, leaning her back to rest against the lounge.

If it hadn't been the middle of the day, he would have surely been unable to contain his want of her. But their reverie was broken upon hearing the chime of the large clock, signaling it was time for luncheon. Dickie pushed himself up, leaving one last, drawn out kiss on her lips.

"My dear…I'm afraid we shall be found out if I am not down to luncheon," he said quietly, leaning his forehead against hers.

She let out a slow breath, her eyes still closed to focus on steadying her rapid heartbeat. "True…though I shall be very sad to see you go."

"Until tonight…" he promised, pressing another kiss to her now swollen lips. He caught the slight sparkle in her eyes, thanking God for this small return to normalcy.

"I am very much looking forward to it, Lord Merton."


	16. Chapter 16

"Lillian Amelia…I think it's beautiful!" Elizabeth said softly, smiling down at the little girl nestled in Isobel's arms. "Don't you think Timothy?"

Timothy nodded from his place standing beside his father. "It suits her...I hope that the family who takes her will agree."

Isobel's breath caught in her throat as she tightened her hold on the sleeping girl. The mere thought of giving up the baby brought tears to her eyes. She did not allow her eyes to lift, knowing it would only take one look at Dickie and she would crumble.

Dickie saw Isobel tense, and quickly stepped forward to be nearer her. He had prepared for this moment…the moment when she realized this arrangement was not permanent. Dickie wanted to be sure he kept Isobel calm so he would not have to call the doctor for an emergent visit tonight. If Dr. Clarkson knew she were out of bed, Dickie could only imagine the lecture he would receive for not following the doctor's orders.

"I'm afraid Mrs. Ingle has not had the time to think about finding another family…and none have come forward. So it seems we are to take care of this little _Lily_ for the time being."

Isobel looked up, catching the warm smile Dickie offered. She blinked away her tears, silently thanking him with a small nod of her head. He reached down and gently brushed his hand over the girl's light blond hair.

"Perhaps the two of you would like to join Isobel and I when we take her for a picnic tomorrow afternoon," Dickie said, allowing his hand to rest on Isobel's shoulder.

"Oh how lovely!" Elizabeth answered with a smile.

"Should the baby really be outside? I doubt it is common for one so young to be out in the elements," Timothy countered. He took a seat across from the women and sipped on his scotch, unaware of why his father and Isobel were taking such an interest in the orphan.

Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. Timothy caught her look of disappointment and sat up straight. "And what, may I ask, have I said wrong?"

Elizabeth waved away his concern but he chose to press the subject. "Come now, she is already smaller than she should be at her age. And what if she catches a chill or…or…"

Elizabeth's frown had turned in to a grin, seeing Timothy so concerned over a baby. While the man did not even know it, Elizabeth could see he cared a great deal. And it was that care she hoped would translate to their children, should he ever get up the nerve to ask for her hand in marriage.

"We will not be out long…simply for the picnic. It will be good for her to get some fresh air," Dickie explained, smiling down as Lily yawned and curled her fingers around Isobel's hand.

"If you think so," Timothy acquiesced, sitting back and taking another sip of his drink.

Dickie was about to respond when he felt Isobel's shoulder go rigid under his touch. He noticed her face had become quite pale.

"Elizabeth, why don't you have a try at holding her?" Dickie asked, motioning for Elizabeth to take the baby from Isobel.

Elizabeth smiled first, but immediately noticed the worried look on Lord Merton's face. She then saw the change in Isobel and hurried to help.

"Might I, Lady Merton?" she asked softly, coming closer so that Isobel could easily hand off the baby.

"Of course, dear," Isobel answered, allowing Elizabeth to take the lead in gathering the sleeping baby from her. As soon as the bundle was gone from her arms, Isobel felt the weakness set in as she no longer had anything to hold to for support. Elizabeth held the baby to her chest with one arm, while her other hand reached forward to steady Isobel's shoulder.

"Why don't you allow me to take her up tonight? I will ring for Elsa to come help you," she said quietly to Isobel, her eyes moving up to meet Dickie's. "I think it might be best."

Dickie agreed and reached down, taking both of Isobel's hands in his. "I'll help you upstairs, dear," he said lowly, knowing she would not want to make a fuss.

He helped her to stand and allowed her a moment as he saw a small grimace cross her delicate features. It wasn't until she looked up and nodded at him that he knew it was ok to move. He said a silent _thank you_ to Elizabeth, then placed his hand at the small of Isobel's back and smiled to Timothy.

"I think we'll leave you two for the rest of the evening. Don't keep these girls up too long, Timothy," he warned, trying to mask his concern for Isobel with a chuckle and wink for his son.

Timothy stood and winked at Elizabeth. "Of course not, Father. A good night to you both," he said, stepping forward to kiss Isobel on the cheek.

Though he was typically unaware of much going on around him, Timothy did realize that there was something amiss. Stepping back, his smile had faded as he saw Isobel's demeanor.

"Do get some rest, Isobel," he said kindly, offering a nod of understanding to his father. "We want you feeling well so we can enjoy that picnic tomorrow."

"Thank you, Timothy," Isobel replied. Dickie's hand pressed firmly on her back as they moved towards the door. It wasn't until they were gone and the door shut completely that Timothy turned back to Elizabeth.

"Do you think she is all right? I mean…truly all right?" he asked.

But his questions were met with silence for Elizabeth's gaze had not moved from the sleeping baby in her arms. And it was then that Timothy Grey realized just how wonderful a mother Elizabeth Butler would be.

"Milady, is there anything more I can do?" Elsa asked, wringing her hands together at the side of Isobel's bed.

Isobel shook her head and smiled to her lady's maid. "No, thank you Elsa. I think that will be all for tonight."

"I've left another headache powder here for you in case you need it during the night. And there is enough water in the pitcher I think…"

Isobel reached out and gently squeezed Elsa's arm. "I will be fine, Elsa. Go on now…"

Elsa sighed and looked down. "You're quite sure, milady?"

"Quite."

"All right then. I shall see you in the morning," Elsa replied, gathering Isobel's evening gown from the end of the bed. She moved to the door but was stopped upon hearing Isobel's quiet voice.

"Elsa...?"

"Yes, Milady?" She turned quickly and moved back over to the bed. "What is it?"

"This isn't getting better," Isobel admitted quietly. "It's only getting worse, isn't it?"

Elsa shifted nervously, not wanting to admit that this medication simply wasn't working and the headaches, weakness, fatigue…they were all getting worse.

"Elsa, you've noticed it, haven't you?" Isobel asked the girl pointedly.

Elsa looked away but nodded. "Yes, Milady. It does seem to be getting worse."

She heard the quiet rustle of sheets and saw Isobel now sitting up against the headboard. Her Ladyship was staring directly at her, setting the young lady's maid on edge.

"I don't want you to say a word of this to Lord Merton…he already knows the medicine is not working well…but I do not want to worry him more than necessary right now."

"Of course, Milady."

"Even if he presses you for more information…you see, I want to speak to Dr. Clarkson first. Then I will discuss the situation with Lord Merton. You understand, don't you? I would hate to worry him if this is simply a need for a different type of medication."

"But doesn't Lord Merton have a right to know how badly the headaches are getting…or how unsteady you are on your feet?"

Elsa knew she had crossed a line when Isobel looked away, her hands gripping the blanket tight.

"I apologize Milady, I should not…"

"No…no," Isobel interrupted, holding up a hand and looking back to her lady's maid, "You are right…I will need to tell him the truth, no matter what the outcome is to be. But, I would like the opportunity to do it in my own way."

A moment of silence passed before Isobel turned back to the maid.

"I have no doubt you will find the best way, Milady," Elsa offered with a smile.

Isobel let out a small sigh of relief. "Right…thank you, Elsa….you have been such a comfort."

"I am happy to have helped, Milady," Elsa answered. "Good night."

Isobel smiled warmly. "Good night, Elsa."

Elsa closed the door, taking a few deep breaths to calm her welling emotions before hurrying towards the back stairwell. And inside Lady Merton's suite, the Baroness' fatigue overwhelmed her as she fell in to a restless sleep.

"Father, are you all right?" Timothy asked cautiously, coming upon his father pacing up and down the hall later that evening.

"Hm, oh yes Timothy. I am fine…are you off to bed?"

"I was…but I wanted to make sure there was nothing more I or Elizabeth could do to help. It seems Isobel was not well at all this evening."

"No…no she wasn't," Dickie replied, looking out the window and placing both hands on the hall table for stability. "To be completely honest, I'm not sure this medicine is working, Timothy."

Timothy and his father had only had a few serious discussions in the young man's lifetime…and he was uncertain how to respond in this case. But seeing his father so distraught, he decided to try and ease the man's worry.

"Perhaps it will just take some time, Father. Has Dr. Clarkson given any indication as to when you might expect Isobel to feel more like herself?"

"He had hoped it would be almost immediate," Dickie answered sadly, turning back to face his son. "I'm afraid we are nowhere near a resolution it seems."

"Father, are you sure she should be out tomorrow? I was concerned first about the baby…but now it seems Isobel is the one who should remain indoors and resting."

Dickie smiled weakly. "If I could keep her inside, I would. But you know Isobel…she will continue on as if nothing is wrong. And I want her to do what she feels she can…for as long as she can anyway."

Dickie looked to the side and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. While it was difficult not to confide in his son, he and Isobel had agreed to keep quiet her prognosis. Isobel did not want to be treated as though she were dying, and he could not blame her…for in reality, he did not want to believe it himself.

"And you really think having this baby here…while Isobel is feeling poorly…is not an inconvenience?"

"Timothy…Lillian Amelia is the one bright spot in Isobel's day. I refuse to take that away from her."

Timothy nodded and looked down, understanding the warning in his father's tone. "Of course…I wouldn't expect you to."

He took a few steps closer to Dickie and lowered his voice. "Perhaps it would be best that a Nanny be hired within the next few days. Do you have any more candidates to interview? Or are you close to making your decision?"

"Two are coming back the day after next to meet the baby and Isobel. Then we hope to make a decision. But Dr. Clarkson has asked that I bring Isobel in for an evaluation…."

"Allow Elizabeth and I to help you with this…please. We can stay with Lillian to make sure she gets on with each of the women and then bring you our final opinion."

"I'm not sure Isobel…"

"Father, Isobel is up to nothing more than resting right now. And while I do not wish to be blunt, I must agree that if she does not get the proper treatment soon, she may not be with us much longer."

Dickie's head shot up, his glare meeting his son's sympathetic gaze. Timothy shook his head and put a firm hand on his Father's shoulder.

"I have only said what you've been thinking, Father. Please, let us help with this…for Isobel's sake."

And though it was his worst fear, he knew that his son was speaking the truth.


	17. Chapter 17

_Thank you all for such kind reviews and care! I am happy to be back to updating and hope you enjoy this next installment!_

* * *

_**Monday afternoon**_

"I will be back tomorrow with a different medication, but I do not want you to start it for another few days. I think giving your body time to recover some strength might be helpful," Dr. Clarkson said, turning Isobel's hand over in his and checking her pulse against his pocket watch.

"And this other medication…you think it will help?" she asked quietly.

He let go of her hand and nodded. "There have been many reports that it has given patients much more relief than this first medication. Hopefully this will be the last change we need to make for awhile."

Isobel nodded and allowed Dr. Clarkson to complete his examination in silence. She was glad that Dickie had agreed to wait outside for the doctor to finish. It would allow her time to speak with her former colleague without worrying her husband more than necessary.

She could not be more appreciative of the care Dr. Clarkson had taken with her, coming all the way out here to Cavenham Park on a Monday afternoon when he should be seeing patients at Downton Cottage Hospital. But, with her condition as poor as it was, he had insisted it was easier for him to make the trip than she. Dickie had thanked him graciously, as had she, but Isobel still wished there was something more she could do to thank the doctor for his help in this uncertain situation.

"And you said that your equilibrium has been worse since beginning the medication?" he asked, pressing gently on the top of her feet and ankles.

"Yes. It seems I have sea legs no matter how much rest I get," she replied as he bent her right leg at the knee and placed it back on the bed.

"And the headaches…has the pain been worse or the same since last week?"

"The same I suppose," she replied as he bent her left leg the same as he had her right.

"Well, that's a good sign. If they ever get worse, medication or not, I want you to tell me," he spoke seriously, catching her eye to make sure she was listening.

"Of course," she agreed, looking down and clasping her hands together in her lap.

He covered her legs back up and moved to his bag. Pulling out his stethoscope, he motioned for her to sit forward. After listening to her lungs, he pulled the stethoscope out of his ears and placed it around his neck. Without a word, he patted her shoulder and then turned back to his bag. She looked up at him, a bit confused.

"Doctor?"

With a sigh, he closed his bag and turned back to her. "Lady Merton…"

She could sense his unease and smiled kindly. "Isobel….please."

He bowed his head to hide a small grin. "Very well…Isobel. I suppose we have known each other long enough for that."

"Yes, we have. And I hope we have known each other long enough that you will tell me what it is you are holding back."

The doctor chuckled quietly and caught her eyes once more. "You have always been very perceptive….an endearing quality for a nurse."

She looked down and whispered her thanks to him.

"Isobel, you know how serious your condition is," he began, clasping his hands behind his back. "But I also know that you do not wish to remain bedridden or hindered in your work."

"Quite right," she agreed.

"While I will do all I can to find a medication that helps with the symptoms, I am also going to suggest that certain accommodations are made here at home and during your daily activities. You may or may not agree with them, but I'm afraid they are going to become necessary should you choose to continue working and maintaining such a busy schedule."

"What accommodations are you speaking of?"

He had rehearsed this speech, knowing she would refute and claim she needed no help in this. But if she would look at it from a medical professional's perspective, rather than a patient's, she would see that he was correct.

"Not much at first…simply a railing here and there to help you in the hallway for balance. And a cane to keep you steady while walking."

Eyes filled with fire shot up at him as Isobel's fingers tightened around the blanket covering her legs.

"I know you will not approve…"

"Not approve? Who do you think I am, the Dowager Countess?!" she exclaimed.

"Now Isobel…it is for your protection."

"It is utterly ridiculous. I DO NOT need a cane!"

"It will allow you your independence," he countered, earning him another harsh look from the Baroness.

"It will impede my independence," she argued, crossing her arms.

"If you choose not to use one, you risk falling and injuring yourself to the point where you will lose ALL independence."

He could see the words sinking in as her arms suddenly lost their vigor, dropping back in to her lap as her harsh gaze fell in to a frown. Her eyes shot across the room, away from his look of concern, as unwanted tears began to well.

"I do not want to upset you….Heaven knows I did not want to suggest any of this. But, I'm afraid the faster we see and accept reality, the better."

She nodded, knowing he was right. Truth be told, a cane would allow her to go places without Dickie needing to be by her side. And with so many details needing to be completed for the school house renovation, she wanted the freedom to leave the house whenever she pleased. Dickie would never allow it if her balance was still so compromised…but with a cane, he might permit it.

After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat and turned to gather his bag. "Allow me to speak to Lord Merton about this? We can discuss which rooms would need adjustments made."

Swallowing back her tears, Isobel forced a small smile and looked back up at her old friend. "Very well. Thank you."

"If there is anything else…"

"No, you've already helped so much. I do appreciate it….truly," she said sincerely, holding out her hand to him.

Sighing, Richard Clarkson took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. These moments were the ones he hated the most….the moments when he realized all the medicine in the world could do nothing to cure the patient in front of him.

And in this case, the patient happened to be one of his closest confidants….


	18. Chapter 18

"She's been quite tired today, milady," Nanny Roberts said quietly. She gently placed Lily in to Isobel's waiting arms, then stepped back to smile down at the pair. "It must be because she is growing."

Isobel's eyes never left the tiny girl in her arms. "I do hope so….she's still quite small for her age."

"I'm sure she'll be just fine, milady."

"Yes, I'm sure," Isobel replied quietly, tightening her hold on the sleeping girl. "Thank you, Nanny."

"Of course. Is there anything more…?"

"No…do enjoy your evening," Isobel said, looking up to smile at the young girl.

They had come to an arrangement that allowed Isobel and Dickie more time with Lily…Isobel still yearning for the chance to raise Lily as she had Matthew. So every afternoon, Lily was brought down to spend time with the family until dinner was served. While it was only a few short hours, it was the time Isobel treasured the most during the day. Lily was the one distraction from reality that Isobel desperately needed to keep her spirits up.

"Very good, milady." Nanny Roberts walked out of the drawing room, passing Lord Merton on her way.

"Ah, Nanny. How is Miss Lily this afternoon?"

"I think it will be a very easy afternoon for you….she has slept most of the day away," Nanny replied.

"Ah, it must be all that activity from yesterday's outing," he replied with a smile. "Thank you for bringing her down."

"Of course, milord. I think she looks forward to spending time with Lady Merton and yourself."

"I do hope so," Lord Merton answered, nodding to Nanny before entering the drawing room.

He smiled at the sight in front of him…Isobel gently rocking the young girl who was sound asleep in her arms. So focused was she on Lily, Isobel did not even hear her husband enter the room…nor realize his presence standing beside her.

"Good afternoon my dear," he said softly, leaning down to place a kiss on her cheek.

Isobel jumped slightly but smiled up at her husband. "Dickie, I hadn't realized you were here."

"I'd say you are quite enthralled with our little charge," he said with a chuckle, taking a seat next to her.

"Yes, I must say that I am. I do worry that she is so small…but Nanny said she must be growing for how much she has been sleeping recently."

"Mm…and Dr. Clarkson thinks she is making good progress. He said so yesterday…remember?"

"Mmhm…."

He had to laugh at how quickly her attention moved back to Lily. She was truly captivated by the little girl, and he had to wonder whether or not Miss Lily would ever leave Cavenham Park.

"I've spoken to Mr. Hanson, and he believes that the school house renovations can begin next week."

Isobel's eyes tore away from the baby to look directly at Dickie. "Truly? Oh, how wonderful!"

He nodded. "As long as the weather holds, he believes they will have the structure finished in less than two weeks."

"That is such good news! Has Mrs. Ingle finished putting together the group of boys that will help?"

"Yes…she even said they've been practicing nailing on some old pieces of wood together in back of the orphanage."

"They are so motivated…" Isobel replied with a smile. "I do wish I could visit them more."

He put his arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her close to his side. "Hopefully, if this medication continues to help you feel more like yourself, we can make arrangements for a visit."

"Thank you," she whispered softly.

Dickie smiled and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "And you are feeling better, hm?"

She nodded, breaking from his intense gaze to look down at Lily. "Much better….so much so that I find no use for the cane any longer."

"Isobel…."

Her mouth quickly pressed in to a thin line. "Dickie, you know…."

He put a finger over her lips and shook his head no. "It is for the best."

Isobel didn't often pout, but she would use whatever resources she had when she needed them. "Please, Dickie…"

He chuckled but still shook his head. "My dear, I must insist on this…it is for your protection. I couldn't bear if you fell and hurt yourself."

She huffed and turned back to look at the baby. "Ridiculous," she whispered.

"You've done very well with it…and no one has been the wiser."

"Violet is coming to dinner this weekend…she will be the wiser," Isobel countered, shifting a bit so that Lily sat a bit higher in her arms. While the little girl was small, a sleeping baby did get quite heavy to hold.

"Why don't I have a go…I can have Mead bring the pram, and we could go for a walk if you like," he said, standing to gather the sleeping girl from Isobel.

Leaning down, he kissed Isobel when he saw her lips were still set in a pout.

"Come now, my dear…what must be, will be. It won't do to fret over it," he said quietly.

With a heavy sigh, Isobel finally relented. "All right…you win…but it will not stop me from continuing to try."

"I don't doubt it, my dear," he replied, reaching down a hand to help her up.

She took his arm as they slowly made their way to the front hall. While she may hate having to use a cane, one thing she would _never _hate was holding fast to Dickie's arm.


	19. Chapter 19

_I must say that this was a very difficult chapter to write...I was never quite satisfied with it! I hope that this end result is something you all enjoy!_

* * *

_**Saturday evening**_

"It was so kind of you to invite us," Cora said, kissing Lord Merton on the cheek.

"It's been too long since we've all been together," Dickie replied with a smile, shaking Robert's hand.

"Cora tells me that Timothy will be here this weekend. Has he been staying often…helping with the estate?" Robert asked.

"He has been splitting his time between here and London. I'm not sure he's quite ready to give up his life of diplomacy," Dickie answered with a chuckle. "Though I think he might be keen to settle down soon…his lady friend, Elizabeth, will be here tonight. I do believe she's reining him in, so to speak."

"Splendid!" Cora grinned. "I'm sure Isobel appreciates having another woman in the house."

"Indeed," Dickie said, turning his attention to the youngster tapping him on the leg. "And can this be Master George? Goodness, I think you've grown five inches since I saw you last!"

Mary laughed lightly as Dickie easily picked up her young son, looked him over and then set him back down.

"After inspection, I think I'm right," Dickie said firmly, earning him a giggle from the little boy.

"You might be," Mary said, leaning over to kiss Dickie on the cheek. "Nanny has told me he will need all new clothes for the Season."

She took George's hand and flashed a dazzling smile to her young boy.

"Where is Grandmamma?" George asked, turning back to look up at Dickie. Mary's breath caught, not knowing how Isobel was feeling or if she would even be down to tea this afternoon.

"She was just getting ready to see you. You might find her in the drawing room."

"Might we go see her, Mama?"

"I daresay we'd best. Would you like to lead the way?" Mary asked.

The little boy's head bobbed up and down as he pulled Mary in the right direction, calling for Granny and Donk to follow.

Robert's eyes rolled as he followed his laughing wife and daughter towards the drawing room.

"I am amazed that Robert has not put his foot down when it comes to that _ridiculous _name."

"Ah, Violet. Now why would he want to disappoint his only grandson?" Dickie asked, kissing Violet on the cheek as the Dowager Countess stepped in to the front hall. "Is Edith not coming?"

"She took Marigold to London. Rosamund wanted to take them shopping or something of the sort," Violet said with a wave of her hand.

"Pity…though I'm sure Marigold will enjoy the city."

"With the way Edith spoils the child, she might never want to return to Yorkshire," Violet commented quietly.

Dickie led her in to the drawing room where George was already up on Isobel's lap. Seeing them enter, she pointed to a train that was set up for George to play with. The little boy slid off of his grandmother's lap and hurried over to the table, allowing Isobel to stand and greet Violet.

"It is good to see you," she said, giving her cousin with a kiss on the cheek.

"And you," Violet answered sincerely. She kept her voice low, however; it would not do for the rest of the family to know how much she appreciated and missed Isobel's friendship. The pair sat down with Cora and Mary while Robert and Dickie began a discussion on crop rotation.

"Have you found a Housekeeper yet?" Cora asked. "I worried about accepting your offer to stay the entire weekend if the issue wasn't settled. We can be quite a handful!"

"Yes, thankfully she arrived last week," Isobel replied. "I was beginning to think poor Mead might leave us if we didn't find anyone soon."

"Nothing is worse than having to find another Housekeeper….except perhaps finding a good lady's maid," Violet commented dryly.

"I must say we were very lucky that Mrs. Hughes was already working at Downton when she was promoted. I don't wish to think what we will do when she and Carson retire," Cora said, looking over to Mary knowingly.

"I've already told you that Anna is spoken for," Mary said, sitting a bit taller and looking away from her mother's piercing gaze. "And should she and Bates ever wish to start a family, it would be difficult for her to run all of Downton at the same time."

"A family?" Violet asked in shock. "Will you keep her on if she does?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

"How do you expect her to keep up with a baby in arms?" Violet countered.

"I suppose she and Bates will work out a schedule for someone to watch the child while they are working," Mary replied.

Violet scoffed. "Highly unlikely. You will regret keeping her on."

"Granny, you like Anna!"

"Perhaps but that does not mean she should continue to be a lady's maid. There are reasons that servants should not be married."

"Would you have gone against Carson marrying Mrs. Hughes?" Isobel asked.

Violet shot a glare over at her. "Of course not!"

"What is the difference?" Mary questioned.

"I daresay they are both well past the age of starting a family," Violet replied, her lips pursing together.

"What is all this talk about starting a family?" Robert asked as he and Dickie came over to join the ladies.

"Granny thinks it unwise to keep Anna on if she and Bates start a family," Mary answered with a sigh.

"Come now, Mama. Anna and Bates have been through enough that I think a child would do them both a bit of good."

"It might do them good….but it will not help Anna's work ethic," Violet countered.

Mary rolled her eyes and looked over to check on George. It was not worth arguing with her Grandmother…she would save that fight for when and if the time came that a baby Bates was on the way.

The door opened and Mead announced Timothy and Elizabeth.

"Ah, wonderful! Timothy, you've met everyone but Elizabeth has not had the chance to meet the Crawley family," Dickie said.

He introduced Elizabeth to the family before motioning for the pair to join them. Elizabeth kissed Isobel on the cheek before taking a seat next to her.

"How are you feeling?" she whispered in Isobel's ear while the rest of the family was saying hello to Timothy.

"A bit better, thank you dear," Isobel answered, smiling and patting Elizabeth's hand. "Thank you for coming."

"We are happy to be here. Timothy promised to be on his best behavior," the girl replied.

"I do hope so," Isobel said with a small laugh.

"Grandmamma, when will you come to Downton again?" George asked, making his way over from his train to climb up on Isobel's lap once again.

Mary sat forward quickly, attempting to stop George.

"George, dear, we mustn't climb on Grandmamma," Mary warned, but the little boy had already snuggled up against Isobel.

"That's all right," Isobel said. "I do love to have Master George close when I can. Soon you will be too big to sit on Grandmamma's lap."

Mary sat back a bit, but caught Isobel's eye, silently questioning her on the matter. Isobel winked at her daughter-in-law and smiled. Mary sighed in relief and sat back. George was a growing boy and with Isobel's health, Mary feared he might easily hurt her. Luckily, it seemed that Isobel was feeling well and enjoyed having George near.

Cora looked over at her daughter and then back to Isobel. She had seen the small exchange and wondered what was going on. She chose not to ask Mary now, but she would make it a point to corner her daughter later.

The door opened and Mead entered, nodding at Lord Merton. Dickie cleared his throat and stood, asking for the room's attention.

"It seems you are all here in time for a bit of a surprise. Timothy and Elizabeth are aware, but we thought this would be a nice occasion to introduce the rest of the family to our little charge," he said, motioning towards the door.

Mead opened the door wider, and Nanny Roberts entered carrying Lily. Cora and Mary both gasped in surprise while Robert took the opportunity to stand next to Dickie.

"What on Earth? Is that a baby?"

Isobel helped George move on to the couch and then turned to take Lily in her arms from Nanny Roberts.

"This is Lillian," Isobel said softly, holding the girl down a bit as George was now grasping her arm in curiosity. "You may call her Lily if you like."

"She's small, Grandmamma," George said, his face crinkling in confusion. "Why is she so little?"

"She is only a few months old, George, but soon she will be able to run and play with you" Dickie explained. Turning to the rest of the family, he said, "Isobel and I have been taking care of her for a few weeks…and will continue to do so until a home is found for her."

"Goodness, this is a surprise!" Cora exclaimed, though her face lit up as she came over to look down at the tiny bundle in Isobel's arms. "How on Earth did she come to be here?"

"I'm afraid the orphanage is already overflowing with children. And there was no nurse available to take special care of Lily…she was quite undernourished when she arrived," Isobel answered, her eyes never leaving the little girl.

"But quite the eater now," Elizabeth said with a smile.

"Would you like to hold her?" Isobel asked, looking up at Cora. She could see that the woman was itching to have the little girl in her arms. Elizabeth stood and offered her seat to Cora.

"Oh, she is so light," Cora breathed once Lily was placed in her arms.

Mary looked over to Violet and saw she was not the only one in the room with reservations about Dickie and Isobel taking on an infant. Violet's lips were pressed in to a thin line, both hands gripping the top of her cane. Mary caught her eye and Violet silently raised an eyebrow, challenging Mary to say something before she did.

Mary did not want to upset either her godfather or mother-in-law, but with Isobel's health, she did not think it wise for her to take such an interest in this little girl. Mary knew Isobel well enough to realize every day the baby spent at Cavenham Park was one step closer to her never leaving the estate.

"And is the orphanage searching for a suitable home?" Mary asked, hoping to announce her reservations subtly.

"Mrs. Ingle has been reaching out, but I'm afraid there are no families willing to take on an infant that needs this amount of care," Isobel explained, smiling as the baby cooed at Cora.

"What is wrong with the child?" Robert asked, turning to Dickie.

"Dr. Clarkson feels she is much better now, but he feared she could become ill with infection or something of that sort when she first came to us. Unfortunately, she was not cared for properly when she was first born, so she requires a bit more attention than most," Dickie answered.

"And what if no home is found within the next few months? Are you just supposed to take on this child as your own?" Mary asked sharply. An awkward silence suddenly fell over the room, no one knowing how to respond to Lady Mary.

"Mary, they are doing the orphanage a favor," Cora said, hoping to make amends for her daughter's harsh tone. "And how could anyone not take in this little beauty?"

She smiled down at the little girl once more, brushing a finger down her cheek.

"But why should you be burdened with a baby…especially if there proves to be complications with her health in the future?" Violet asked.

Isobel's eyes narrowed as she looked over at the Dowager. "Forgive me, but if memory serves, you were in favor of Edith taking in Marigold, were you not?"

"Not at first," Violet replied curtly.

"But would you wish the little girl to be taken away now…after Edith has given so much of her time and love to her?"

"Edith may have had her own children should Mr. Gregson not have met such an early demise. She is the proper age…it makes far more sense for her to have a child."

Dickie sucked in his breath and stood straight, understanding exactly what the Dowager Countess was implying. Robert recognized this and moved to intervene.

"Really, Mama…" Robert began, only to be cut off by Isobel's voice.

"So you are saying that Dickie and I should not care for Lily because of our age?"

Violet met Isobel's harsh glare with one of her own. "What point is there in having to find another home for her when you are both gone?"

"Mama!" Cora exclaimed, causing the baby to begin fussing.

Isobel's mind was reeling…never had she been so stunned and angry at the same time. Violet's reaction was upsetting, but not surprising. But Mary….Mary surprised Isobel. She would have hoped Mary would see it was best to have the baby cared for privately, rather than forgotten in an orphanage full of children. Apparently, Mary and her Grandmother were not so different in their old-fashioned opinions.

"Perhaps we should allow Mrs. Ingle more time to find a family before discussing anything permanent," Timothy said, hoping to calm the tension in the room. He looked to Elizabeth for some help, but her eyes were focused on Isobel.

Elizabeth had seen Isobel tense alongside Cora and noticed that George also recognized the change in his Grandmamma. The little boy had now snuggled in to his grandmother's side, holding tightly to her arm. Elizabeth assumed he did not like the raised voices of his family or the angry look crossing Isobel and Cora's faces. She did not either….nor did she think it best for Isobel to get so upset. Stress was something Dr. Clarkson suggested be kept to a minimum.

"Yes…I agree it would be best to give a bit more time," Robert said slowly, catching his mother's eye. She turned her head away, recognizing Robert's warning look, telling her to keep her opinions to herself. How he reminded her of his father in that moment…she did not appreciate being silenced by the former Lord Grantham and she detested it even more so from her son.

The baby began to openly cry, causing Isobel to break from her stunned silence. She turned to Cora who willingly offered the girl back to her. Cora could see how upset Isobel was and felt the woman had every right to be. While it was not on every occasion that she agreed with cousin Isobel…in this instance, she would support Isobel's decision to keep the baby if it came to it. Marigold brought such happiness to Edith…and if that was what Lily brought to Dickie and Isobel, then Cora made up her mind she would help them fight for it.

Isobel easily calmed Lily down after a few moments. George continued to hold fast to her arm but began to peek over to catch a glimpse of the little girl.

"Might I hold her, Grandmamma?"

"George, I don't think…" Mary began, only to be interrupted, surprisingly, by Cora.

"I think that's a splendid idea, George! Wouldn't you say, Isobel?"

Isobel smiled appreciatively to Cora and then turned back to George. "Indeed. Why not sit back against those pillows?"

George did as he was instructed and held out both arms. The women chuckled at his eagerness.

"Really, I think it best…"

"Mary, I'd like to show you the grounds while Timothy is here," Dickie said, coming over to take her arm and move her away from the others. "Timothy, Robert, why not come along and we can discuss how Cavenham Park might benefit from some of the renovations you've put in place at Downton."

"But I…"

"Yes, lets," Robert agreed. "Timothy?"

Timothy held his hand out towards the door. "Ladies first."

Mary looked back towards George who was now holding the baby with Isobel and Elizabeth's help. Robert took hold of her elbow and gently pulled her towards the door. Relenting, she led the way in to the hall, followed by Timothy and Robert.

"We won't be long. Do enjoy yourselves," Dickie called to the ladies.

Cora smiled and nodded her appreciation to him. "We will."

Dickie returned the smile and winked at Isobel who had now turned to see him leave. She mouthed _thank you_ as he turned and walked out the door.

Dickie hoped he could make Mary understand the baby was more help than harm, even if he and Isobel were up in years. Because every moment they spent with Lily was one moment less spent worrying about Isobel's condition. And they needed as many of those moments as they could get.


	20. Chapter 20

Mary quickly hurried out the front door and in to the nearby garden. The men had followed, but Timothy asked Robert and Dickie for a moment alone with Mary. They agreed and allowed the young man to head for Mary alone.

"Mary…I realize this is quite a shock…"

"Did you know about them taking in the child when we discussed Isobel's illness?" she asked, spinning around to glare at him.

"I…yes, I did know…"

"How could you not say anything? Can you not see how utterly ridiculous this is? Isobel will lay down her life for that child and forget her own health in the process!" Mary spat, beginning to pace back and forth. "But of course…why would you care? You never wanted Isobel to marry your father anyway!"

"Mary! Stop!"

She stalled mid-pace and looked up over at him in surprise. No one shouted at Lady Mary Crawley.

"You are welcome to your opinion on the matter, but do not accuse me of not caring for Isobel's well-being. In the beginning, yes, I was against their marrying. But now I agree it was for the best, and I have come to value Isobel and what she brings to this family."

Mary turned to face him, but her arms remained crossed and one eyebrow rose in challenge.

"And you think their taking in this child is a good idea I suppose?"

"I have not made up my mind on the subject….but to be honest, Lily has brought joy back in to the house where it was taken away by Isobel's illness."

Mary stood silent for a moment, her arms slowly uncrossing and dropping to her sides. Balling her hands in to fists, she looked down at the ground.

"What do you think should be done then?"

"As I said inside, it should be given time. For all we know, there is a family walking in to the orphanage this very moment inquiring about adoption."

"And if no family ever comes?"

"Must you always look at the glass half empty?"

"Must you choose to dismiss reality?"

They both remained glaring at each other, silently challenging the other on the matter.

"I think, for the moment, that we had best put the issue to rest," Dickie said, coming up behind the pair. Robert joined him, hands clasped behind his back, seeming to be in deep thought.

"But if this continues…"

Dickie held up a hand. "My dear Mary…while I understand and appreciate your position, I think we need to allow this weekend to be one of relaxation. I want you to enjoy your time here, not spend it worrying."

"I agree," Robert added. "It will not do to dwell on something that is presently out of our hands."

"Papa, you don't understand…."

"That is where you're wrong, my girl," Robert answered, stepping forward. "I am ashamed that I had not realized earlier Isobel was ill and..."

Mary's eyes widened and Timothy opened his mouth to question but Dickie interjected. "I've told Robert of Isobel's diagnosis and her wish to keep it private."

"All the more reason to make this a weekend of tranquility rather than disparity," Robert agreed, looking pointedly at his eldest daughter. "Are we in agreement, Mary?"

Mary held her ground for a moment but with all three men against her, she knew she would never win the argument now. Sighing, she clasped her hands together in front and looked around the group.

"All right. I will say no more on the subject….but if I see Isobel getting worse this weekend, I will not hold my tongue," she warned.

"I will agree with that," Timothy said, turning to Dickie. "Father, shall we continue our walk and discuss those renovations Downton has put in place?"

"If Robert and Mary are in agreement, I think we should take a look at the greenhouses first," Dickie said, motioning for the others to begin walking towards the west end of the estate.

Mary's steps felt slow and heavy as she followed along, not truly hearing the conversation her father was having with Dickie and Timothy. She nodded and agreed every so often, but her mind strayed to the people inside Cavenham Park…and to the nagging notion that this was not to be a happy ending.

* * *

"She's in the nursery, milord," Elsa said as the Baron entered Isobel's bedroom that evening. "She heard the baby crying and didn't wish to make things difficult for Nanny while she was settling Master George."

"Very good, thank you Elsa," he said kindly.

He moved down the hall quietly, hoping not to wake the baby if Isobel had gotten her to sleep. Peeking in the door, he smiled seeing Isobel with her eyes closed and head resting against the back of the rocking chair while Lily slept peacefully in her arms.

He snuck inside and gently closed the door. Making his way over, he stole a look at Lily and chuckled under his breath. She truly was a beauty and had become easily attached to Isobel. Though Nanny hated to disturb Lady Merton, Dickie knew that she often times had to ask Isobel to help calm the young girl before a nap. It seemed Lily felt completely safe only when she was in Isobel's arms.

"Dickie?"

He pressed a kiss to the top of Isobel's head, squeezing her shoulder gently as her eyes opened.

"I must have dozed off," she whispered, shifting forward to readjust her hold on the baby.

"It is quite late….why not try to put her down and come to bed," he replied quietly. She nodded and thanked him as he held her forearms to steady her when she stood.

She easily delivered Lily in to the crib without waking her, allowing her fingers to trace the little girl's face softly before turning to leave. Dickie took her by the hand and turned out the bedside lamp.

Nanny was just shutting the door to George's bedroom when she saw Lord and Lady Merton exit the nursery.

"Thank you ever so much, milady, milord. Master George was a bit unsettled being in a new room tonight."

"We do appreciate your taking him under your wing for the weekend, Nanny," Isobel replied kindly. "Is he all right?"

"Yes, milady. He is now sound asleep…it only took three stories," she answered with a small laugh.

"Very good. Lily is also asleep and I daresay you've earned a rest yourself," Dickie said.

"Thank you, milord, milady. Good night."

As Nanny quietly ducked in to the nursery, Dickie and Isobel walked the short distance to her bedroom. The lamps were already dimmed and the fire lit. Isobel would have to thank Elsa in the morning for remembering how cold she got in the evenings, no matter what time of year it was.

"I daresay you have earned a rest tonight, as well, _my_ lady," Dickie said, helping her slip out of her dressing gown.

"Earned a rest? I don't know that I've done anything to _earn_ it, have I?" she asked, slipping under the covers and relaxing back against the pillows.

Smiling, he pulled the blanket up over her legs, leaning down and placing his hands on either side of her. He kissed the middle of her forehead before pulling back slightly.

"My dear, you earned it in more ways than one…however, the way you conducted yourself against Violet this afternoon was worthy of a great deal more than a good night's sleep."

Her lips dropped in a frown, her frustration suddenly surfacing as she remembered Lily's less than pleasant introduction to the Dowager Countess.

"She's impossible," Isobel huffed, turning her head to the side. She closed her eyes, willing away her irritation. She jumped slightly when she felt Dickie's lips on her temple and his hands gently come to rest on her waist.

Turning back, she found herself nose to nose with her husband. His look of understanding melted her frown.

"I'm sorry…I shouldn't allow her to frustrate me so," she said softly, pressing a small kiss to his lips. "You are a saint for dealing with all of this."

"My dear, the only thing that matters is that you are taken care of. And if having Lily here is what you want….then that is what will be," he replied with no hint of hesitation.

"Thank you," she whispered as his lips captured hers in a deep kiss.

He slipped off his shoes and climbed up beside her, never once breaking their passionate embrace. It had been quite a while since they had time for themselves. He could hardly contain his relief when she wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him closer.

"Isobel…" he breathed, placing tender kisses down her neck and on her collarbone, "…you're sure?"

Placing both hands on his cheeks, she forced him to look up at her. "I am…and surely if I'm lying down, you won't have to worry about my falling over."

He could not help but laugh as she bit her bottom lip, chuckling under her breath. "Quite right," he replied softly, leaning forward to kiss the tip of her nose.

"And I have missed you…us…terribly," she whispered, her hand coming to rest on his cheek.

"So have I…" he agreed, leaving a lingering kiss on her slightly swollen lips, "…so have I."


	21. Chapter 21

_Many, many thanks for your continued reviews for this story! I hope you continue to enjoy the journey :) _

* * *

"Mama, might we go for a walk? Nanny said that Lily likes to go out for walks!"

Mary set her book aside with a sigh. While she loved her son, she never had been able to match his energy.

"I suppose, George. But you mustn't run Nanny all over the estate…it isn't fair when she has to take care of Lily as well," Mary replied.

"Will you come, Mama? Donk and Grandfather went to the stables….we could see the horses, couldn't we Mama?" George asked eagerly, coming over and tugging on Mary's hand.

Cora and Isobel laughed from across the room.

"I daresay you have not lost any of your energy by playing all morning, have you George?" Cora asked.

"No Granny, I don't think so," George replied honestly, smiling at Cora before turning back to tug on Mary's hand again. "Please Mama!"

"Oh all right. Let us go for a walk then," Mary answered, smiling to her son but rolling her eyes when she looked over at Cora and Isobel.

"Granny, Grandmamma, will you come? Please, come see the horses! And Miss Elizabeth, you will like them too! They are very nice horses," George said, holding fast to Mary's hand while looking around the room.

"My George, you do make it sound like a great deal of fun," Elizabeth said, setting her tea cup aside and standing. "I do believe I might come along."

George's eyes lit up as he turned to his grandmothers. "Come on then!"

"George, perhaps Granny and Grandmamma have other things to finish inside. We mustn't beg, dear," Mary warned.

"Oh, I am sorry," George said, his face dropping a bit.

"Not at all, silly boy," Cora said. "Of course we'll come…won't we Isobel?"

"I think that's a lovely idea. It will be nice to get out in the fresh air," Isobel answered, setting her cross stitch to the side.

"Let's go find Nanny and Lily! Hurry! Hurry Mama!" George exclaimed, his vigor back with a vengeance as he pulled Mary towards the doorway.

Cora, Isobel and Elizabeth all laughed at young George's enthusiasm while Mary tried to make him slow down.

"He is a darling child," Elizabeth said, smiling over to Cora and Isobel as they stood.

"He is that," Cora replied. "We had better hurry or he will leave without us!"

She and Elizabeth began following Mary and George, though Elizabeth noticed Isobel standing still out of the corner of her eye. She stopped and turned, finding Isobel's eyes closed and one hand gripping the edge of the settee.

"Isobel?" Elizabeth quietly moved over to where Isobel stood. Cora, too, noticed and saw Isobel's strange appearance.

"Isobel, are you all right?" Elizabeth asked a bit louder this time, gently touching Isobel's arm.

Isobel nodded but her eyes remained shut.

"Isobel, dear, what is it?" Cora asked, coming to stand beside Elizabeth. "You're dreadfully pale. Are you all right?"

Elizabeth remained silent, wanting nothing more than to tell Cora these dizzy spells were quite normal for Lady Merton. But it was not her secret to tell…and she did not want to give away any more information than Isobel would allow.

Isobel forced her eyes opened and formed a weak smile for the two concerned women in front of her. "I apologize…I must have stood up too fast. Signs of old age, I presume," she explained with a small laugh.

Cora sighed in relief and put a hand to her chest. "You had me quite worried for a moment. Though I do admit to having a few more 'spells' myself now and again."

Elizabeth smiled as well but kept a close eye on Isobel. "You're sure?" she asked quietly.

Isobel nodded. "Quite. Cora, might you mind asking them to hold back a moment while I tell Mrs. Denton where we are off to? I will have her serve tea a bit later this afternoon."

"Of course!" Cora replied brightly, heading off in search of Mary and George. Elizabeth had turned to follow but instead, shut the door once Cora was out of sight. Turning, she saw Isobel had sunk to the settee. She hurried back over and sat beside Isobel, gently placing a hand on her back.

"Isobel, what is it? What is wrong?"

"I'm afraid I did stand up too fast…and things aren't quite in focus yet," Isobel replied quietly, letting out a slow breath. She patted Elizabeth's leg softly. "I'll be all right."

"Are you sure you'll be all right to come along? The stables are quite far off…without your cane…"

Isobel visibly winced at the word, turning her face away and shaking her head. "No."

"But Isobel…"

"Not in front of George."

Elizabeth sighed. If only Isobel would tell the family what was going on….

"Perhaps then you could allow Nanny a break and would like to push the pram? That would give you something to hold fast to," Elizabeth suggested.

It took a moment but Isobel finally nodded, looking back over to Elizabeth. "Yes, that might work. Thank you."

Elizabeth stood and kept her hand on Isobel's shoulder. "You stay here a moment and keep calm. I will find Mrs. Denton and let her know our plans. Then I will come back and help you out front. You're sure you're all right?"

Isobel nodded and thanked Elizabeth once more before the girl left the room in search of the new Housekeeper. Once alone, Isobel allowed her head to drop in to her hand, the dizziness causing her to become nauseous and lightheaded. She took a few deep breaths to try and calm her nerves, knowing that getting upset would not help the situation any.

Elizabeth returned less than five minutes later, shutting the door behind her and rushing over to Isobel.

"Everything is set for this afternoon's tea. Mrs. Denton said she would inform the Dowager Countess of the change in time when she returned from her outing to the village."

Elizabeth reached down and took Isobel's hands in hers. "Are you sure you feel up to this? I can make allowances for you."

"I do not want to worry George. He is so looking forward to this," Isobel replied, squeezing Elizabeth's hands before tightening her hold on the young girl and standing. Elizabeth helped to steady her before looping her arm around Isobel's waist and leading her towards the door.

"They're just outside the front door and Nanny has brought Lily down in the pram. Cora was watching over her," Elizabeth explained while opening the door.

Isobel smiled gratefully at the young girl before taking a few cautious steps in to the hallway. She stayed towards the outer edge, keeping one hand on the railing Dickie had installed in accordance with Dr. Clarkson's recommendations.

Elizabeth stepped out of the front door first, smiling as George began jumping up and down at the sight of her.

"Might we go now?" he asked, clapping his hands together.

"Just about. Grandmamma is just coming," Elizabeth answered, turning and taking Isobel's elbow as she stepped down on to the landing.

Mary's head cocked to the side, catching sight of the hesitation in Isobel's movements. She looked quickly to Elizabeth who still had a slight hold on Isobel's elbow. Elizabeth and Mary locked eyes for a moment before Elizabeth shook her head slightly, warding Mary off. She knew Mary wanted to insist that Isobel stay inside and rest, but Lady Merton had already made her position clear that afternoon. It would not help to upset her in front of Cora, George and Lily now.

"I do believe Miss Lily is ready, too," Cora said, smiling down as Lily clasped on to her fingers. Lily giggled and George came over quickly, standing on his tip toes to look inside the pram.

"Might I lead the way, Granny?"

"I think that is a splendid idea," Cora agreed.

"Then I think we are all here," Isobel said, stepping forward to stand beside Cora. She took hold of the pram's handle and smiled down at Lily. She fixed the blanket a bit and then brushed a finger down Lily's soft cheek before reaching over to ruffle George's hair.

"Ready, Master George?"

George stood straight and tall, nodding firmly. "Ready Grandmamma!"

"Then lead on," she called. George began marching down the road, the women laughing as they followed.

Elizabeth thanked Nanny and wished her a happy hour off before hurrying to catch up with the group. Before she could come in line with Cora and Isobel, Mary took her by the arm and held her back a few steps.

"What is wrong?"

"We mustn't discuss it here," Elizabeth whispered. "Your mother might get suspicious."

"It's Isobel…she's feeling poorly, isn't she?" Mary asked. Her eyes pierced in to the kind eyes of Elizabeth, intimidating the younger woman in to telling more than she ought.

"Yes…a bit…we can talk at tea this afternoon. I'm sure your Mother and Isobel will want to hear about the Dowager's outing. We won't be overheard then," Elizabeth explained.

Mary was about to protest but Elizabeth had already hurried to catch up with the others. Luckily, George was still small enough that his steps did not allow him to get very far very fast. And Cora did not seem to mind the leisurely pace, having gotten in to discussion with Isobel about what plans were for the upcoming Season.

Mary sighed and picked up her pace, falling in to step with Elizabeth and George, both now hunting for any sign of a rabbit. By the time they'd reached the stables a half hour later, Mary had to admit the joy of her young son was helpful in easing her worry for Isobel.

As they rounded the corner, George's eyes lit up seeing both Robert and Dickie standing outside the stables, speaking to a few workers about redesigning some of the fencing to allow more space for the horses to roam during the day.

"Mama, Mama! Look, they have the horses out!"

George quickly grabbed on to Mary's hand and pulled Elizabeth along with his other.

"Hurry!"

"Now George, we mustn't run. I don't want you getting all dirty before dinner. You have to see Great Granny when we get back," Mary chided.

"Yes, Mama. But hurry!"

Mary chuckled and looked over George's head at Elizabeth who seemed quite amused by George.

"I'd say you're not going to win this battle," Elizabeth said softly as George tugged on their arms, pulling them quickly to the end of the road.

"He does love the horses," Cora mused, smiling over at Isobel. "Did Matthew love them this much when he was a boy? Mary rode…but she was never as fond of them as Edith and Sybil."

Isobel smiled down at Lily who was kicking her legs and giggling. "Yes, he did love them. We had a horse for quite a while…it allowed Reginald to get to families outside of Manchester much faster. He allowed Matthew to ride after school and on the weekends."

She couldn't help but smile at her memories. "George reminds me so much of Matthew…rushing home so he could see the mare…wanting nothing more than to get out of his school clothes and in to something I didn't mind him getting dirty. The poor old dear was just as eager…she would whinny when she heard the bell ring after school until he got home to see her."

"How lovely," Cora replied. "I can assure you George is already showing the same habits. Nanny practically has to lock him inside until she can get Marigold ready to go down to the stables in the afternoon."

"Dickie was so pleased to give them the foals…and I know it meant a great deal to him that Mary and Edith allowed the children to keep the horses," Isobel answered, smiling as George rushed over to Dickie's open arms.

The workers moved back in to the stables while Robert and Dickie took George over to pet the horses. Mary and Elizabeth stayed back on the road, waiting for Isobel and Cora to reach them with Lily.

"He is a ball of energy!" Elizabeth said as Cora came to stand beside her.

"He is more than that," Mary replied dryly. "There are some days that I wonder whether he will ever learn to behave like a gentleman."

"Oh Mary, he's only a little boy!" Cora exclaimed. "You girls used to run in the fields and get dirty all the time."

"Not when Granny was coming to dinner," Mary answered curtly.

"Well, I can assure you it does not bother Dickie or I in the least," Isobel said, laughing lightly as a mare nuzzled George's hair and sent the little boy in to a fit of giggles.

Mary tried to remain stern but the laughter from her son was always her undoing. She sighed and uncrossed her arms. "As long as he is cleaned up by the time Granny arrives back at the house tonight, I suppose I will let it go….for now."

She and Elizabeth made their way over to the fence, George calling out that they needed to come pet the beautiful horses. Dickie set George down when he saw Isobel and Cora standing on the road.

"Well, isn't this a nice surprise?" he said, coming over and kissing Isobel on the cheek. He stooped down and placed a small kiss on Lily's forehead as well.

Standing straight, he smiled at both ladies. "I take it George got everyone to come along for his walk today?"

"We thought we would give Nanny a bit of a break. She was only hired to care for an infant and now she's had to deal with a very energetic four year old!" Cora replied.

"I'm sure she appreciates it," Dickie replied. "Robert and I have made some good progress with the layout of the fencing, I believe. The workers think they can get started by the middle of next week. Timothy will be pleased….it was his idea."

"Come now, Dickie…give yourself some due credit. You put the thought in his head," Robert said, coming to stand beside Cora.

"Perhaps. But he solidified the plans….it's a shame he could not be here today to speak to the workers."

"Will he be back this evening?" Robert asked. "I thought we could discuss plans for you all to come to Downton before the Season. He had wanted to look at a few things on the grounds."

"I would think so," Dickie replied. "He only had a few things to attend to in the village."

George's squeals rang out across the yard, followed by the sounds of both Mary and Elizabeth laughing. The four older adults smiled as they watched George run along the fence, a young filly chasing him from the other side.

Dickie turned back to say something to Isobel but found she was no longer smiling like the others. Her hands were gripping the handle of the pram, so much so that her knuckles were beginning to turn white. He subtly took a few steps closer to her and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Lean in to me," he whispered in her ear, tightening his hold on her.

"Look at him go! I don't know whether the filly or George will tire first," Robert said, pointing at the pair that continued to chase each other up and down the fence.

"My bet is on the filly….he has never met the likes of our young George," Dickie answered, trying to keep the atmosphere light. He knew something was wrong with Isobel but did not want to bring attention to it. She would despise making a scene…especially in front of George.

"You might be right," Cora agreed, smiling at the couple standing beside her. It was wonderful seeing how easily they fit together, Dickie with his arm around Isobel and little Lily in the pram beside them. A delightful little family…Cora could only hope that no antiquated opinions would take this little girl away from them.

"I should be getting back," Dickie said, taking out his pocket watch to look at the time, "though I do hate to leave this merriment. I'm afraid I promised to meet with Mead this afternoon."

"I'll go with you," Isobel said softly. "Lily will be ready for a bottle soon."

"Would you like me to go with you?" Cora asked.

"Oh no…you stay and enjoy the fun," Isobel replied kindly. "Tell George that we're going to get his Great Granny settled."

"And good luck with that," Robert answered, the sarcasm evidenced by his sly grin.

It wasn't until they were down the road and out of earshot that Dickie took a closer look at Isobel.

"Isobel…what is it?" he asked quietly, not wanting any workers to overhear their conversation.

"I'll be all right," she answered, forcing a smile up at him.

"I would have to disagree with you on that, my dear," he replied. "Why not let me push the pram back? Give you a bit of a break?"

"No, I…I think it best I hold on to it," she answered hesitantly.

"Isobel…"

"I just need to sit down and then I will be fine."

"Is it another headache?" he asked, his voice growing as his worry increased.

"Not so much…my equilibrium seems to be a bit off, that's all," she answered, keeping her focus on Lily's smile. It seemed if she focused on the little girl's precious face, rather than the vast grounds, she felt a bit steadier.

"Would you like to sit for a bit? We can go to the gardens if you like," he suggested.

"Violet will be back soon, and I'd never hear the end of it if no one was in the house to greet her when she returns," Isobel reminded him.

"Mm, quite right..." She did have a point…and getting in to an argument with Violet Crawley was the last thing Isobel needed if she wished to regain her bearings.

They walked in silence for a few moments before Dickie dared broach the subject. "My dear, you could have used the cane."

The rocks scratched beneath her shoes as she stopped short, turning sharply to glare at him. But his face and everything surrounding her suddenly began to move from side to side. She cursed under her breath for having turned so fast. Dickie stepped forward quickly, seeing her body begin to sway. He firmly took hold of her arms and pulled her close, his body shielding the pram from rolling away.

"Isobel…please…I cannot bear to see you push yourself this far."

He looked down as her forehead came to rest on his chest, her hands now gently holding to his forearms. He could tell she was trying to keep strong and not allow him to see how poorly she felt. He realized that when she was truly feeling ill, she would never look him directly in the eye.

_Always the nurse…always caring about others before herself, _he thought with a sigh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Let's get you inside. We can discuss it later, all right?"

She nodded from her current position, taking a few slow breaths to try and calm the dizziness and her frustrations. If only her body would work the way she wanted it to! Her mind was as quick as it had been in her twenties, but her body….that was a different story and completely out of her control. And it frustrated her more than she could explain.

Isobel had just allowed her eyes to meet Dickie's when Lily began to fuss in the pram.

"Shh, shh, it's all right darling," Isobel hushed, tearing her eyes and body away from Dickie to take hold of the pram once more. She rocked the pram back and forth to try and soothe the girl but knew the baby was probably hungry.

"We're just about there," Dickie said, his hand meeting the small of Isobel's back.

She nodded and they continued on. Dickie would make Isobel see reason…he had to. They had come too far and been through too much for him to lose her now.


	22. Chapter 22

_My thanks to all for the reviews and questions related to the latest developments with this story. Some have asked whether or not a happy ending is in store for Isobel...and to be honest, I'm not quite sure! The story has been developing in my mind for quite some time, and I do not yet have an ending solidified. However, I can guarantee you that no matter what, I want Isobel and the rest of the characters to remain true to who they have become through Julian Fellows' writing...I find Isobel to be a strong, vibrant, loyal woman and no matter what the circumstance, I do not see her straying from that. So, I will do all I can to give our Isobel a happy ending...but I won't make any promises ;) _

* * *

"So your meeting was a success then, Mama?" Cora asked as she sat down beside Violet later that afternoon.

"I believe so. Much to Lady Merton's chagrin, I'm sure," Violet replied with a smirk.

Isobel sighed, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her tea. She chose to remain silent, not having the energy to argue with Violet over fundraising for the hospital just now. She was too involved with the orphanage as it stood, and after this afternoon, she knew Dickie would have her head if she moved to battle Violet Crawley over how best to raise funds for Downton Cottage Hospital.

"Goodness, choosing to come down from your high moral ground?" Violet asked, a sly grin forming on her face.

"Perhaps I am simply choosing my battles wisely," Isobel replied simply.

"Mama, I do think Isobel has quite a lot on her plate with the orphanage's renovation and having Lily here in the house," Cora said gently.

"Well, if the child was in the orphanage where it belonged, it would leave Isobel ample time to fulfill her duties on the hospital board," Violet countered.

Isobel's lips drew in to a thin line as she set her tea cup to the side. Cora did not know whether she should intervene or simply allow battle to commence between the two strong-willed women.

"I am glad you reminded me," Isobel said, standing from her chair and crossing to the desk. Violet watched her closely as she pulled an envelope out of the drawer. Isobel held tight to the back of her chair with one hand and with the other, held out the envelope for Violet to take.

"You had asked for the next quarterly agenda, as well as notes from the nursing staff as to what they felt needed to be fixed for the coming year. It is all there, as well as budgetary recommendations to include upgrading the outdated equipment in the operating rooms."

Violet's eyes were wide as she took the envelope in hand. "My, did you have someone to help you collect all the information?"

"No, I took care of it myself," Isobel replied curtly, returning to her seat and clasping her hands in her lap. "Might there be any other responsibilities you feel I have neglected?"

Cora had to drop her head to hide her laughter as Violet sat up a bit straighter and eyed Isobel with disdain.

"Isobel, if you'd realize…"

"Realize what? That I am old and incapable of caring for a child again?"

Silent tension formed around the three women as Isobel's words loomed over Violet. She hadn't meant to make Isobel feel as though she were unqualified to care for the child…but the fact was, she was much older and did not have the time needed to raise the child properly.

"Grandmamma, might you read me the train story again?"

Isobel's glare softened immediately as George came around her chair to take her hands.

"Of course, darling. Why don't we sit by the window, hm?"

George smiled and nodded, keeping her hand in his as she stood. It was not until she and George were settled on the window seat that Violet dared speak again.

"My, quite touchy, isn't she?"

"And she is absolutely right," Cora said, her lips set in a frown as she regarded her mother-in-law. "Isobel is probably more capable to raise that child than both you and I put together. She practically raised Matthew by herself with no help from a Nanny or a husband after Dr. Crawley died."

"My dear, you needn't remind me of Isobel's qualifications as a mother," Violet replied quietly. "I am well aware of her capabilities….but surely even you realize that raising a child at her age is simply not done!"

* * *

"Isobel seems a bit better now. But what was wrong earlier…before our walk this afternoon?" Mary asked Elizabeth quietly.

The two women had taken up a card game in the corner of the room, allowing Mary to question Elizabeth without Isobel overhearing.

"She has been having more trouble with her balance. Dr. Clarkson has suggested she use a cane…but she is not at all agreeable to it. She will only use it when she and Dickie are alone in the house."

"Not even if you and Timothy are visiting?" Mary asked with surprise. "But you know the situation…why would…?"

Elizabeth sighed and set her cards down. "She does not want to be pitied…nor does she want us to feel as though she is always in need of help. She feels the cane is a sign of weakness."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Now she's beginning to sound like Granny."

Elizabeth laughed softly. "Yes, but your Grandmother _uses _a cane!"

"For intimidation only, I can assure you" Mary replied dryly. "Nothing more."

"Whatever the case, she does not want your Grandmother, George…any one really…to see her using it. You know of her wish to keep the illness a secret as long as possible."

"Well if today is any indication, it will not be much longer before they all realize she is not herself," Mary answered, glancing over at Isobel and George giggling by the window.

She smiled sadly, wishing she could simply fix Isobel's problem. But she knew that there was nothing to be done…and with Isobel being just as stubborn as Violet Crawley, there was little hope of her accepting help from the rest of the family.

"I quite agree," Elizabeth replied softly. "Perhaps you could speak to her…make her see that using the cane is not such a bad idea. We've all tried but she simply refuses."

Mary sighed, her smile dropping as she looked back to Elizabeth. "I can try…though I'm not sure how much good it will do."

"Perhaps hearing it from you will be a bit different. She does adore George…and the thought of losing the ability to play and visit with him might just bring her around."

Mary's eyebrows rose, a possible conversation formulating as she listened to Elizabeth's suggestion.

"I will speak with her this evening before dinner. I will say goodnight to George and try to catch her in her room. Will you keep Dickie occupied?"

"Of course! I'll have Timothy tell him about the meetings today….that could take all evening!" Elizabeth replied with a laugh. "You should have more than enough time."

"Right," Mary answered thoughtfully, looking back over to George and Isobel. "Let's just hope it works."

* * *

"I do believe Master George enjoys being here, milady," Elsa said, clasping a necklace around Isobel's throat. "And he is quite taken with Miss Lily, isn't he?"

"Yes, that he is," Isobel replied, smiling as she pulled on her gloves slowly. Her fingers had grown somewhat numb over the past few weeks and it was becoming more and more difficult to maneuver the small details of her appearance. Having Elsa was truly a godsend…one she did not take for granted.

"Would you like me to bring anything up later tonight, milady? You seem rather tired today…perhaps some chamomile tea?" Elsa asked gently, handing the second glove to Isobel.

Isobel thanked Elsa but declined. "I fear the only thing I will be doing when I come up from dinner is falling straight to sleep."

There was a small knock on the door, causing both the lady's maid and Isobel to look at each other, puzzled. Dickie hadn't knocked in ages…having learned how long it took Isobel to get ready so he knew when it was safe to enter.

"Isobel, its Mary….might I come in?"

Isobel smiled and nodded to Elsa. Elsa quickly crossed to open the door and allow Mary to enter the room.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," she said with a smile, coming to sit on the chair beside Isobel's dressing table.

"Not a bit. Elsa and I were just finished. Thank you dear…" she said to Elsa, smiling kindly as the lady's maid wished both ladies a lovely dinner.

"Has George gone to bed?" Isobel asked. She turned to face the mirror and readjusted her necklace before facing Mary.

"Yes, he was quite upset that he would not get to join the adults this evening after having us all to himself this afternoon," Mary replied with a sigh. "He's so young in so many ways, yet so grown up at the same time."

Isobel laughed softly. "Quite right. I do wish we could visit more often….so I could see more of the little boy in him before he grows up."

"You know that you are welcome any time. And you will come with Dickie and Timothy when they visit Papa to discuss the estate, won't you?"

"Of course…though, there is Lily…" Isobel answered tentatively, not having considered that bringing Lily might be a problem before now. But with Mary and Violet both not keen on the idea of Dickie and Isobel keeping the little girl, they might have to reconsider travel plans to Downton from here on out.

"And she will come too," Mary said definitely. Isobel's eyes widened a bit, the change in appearance not lost on Mary. "I may have been reserved in my opinions of your caring for her at first, but I find she is quite a dear and George does seem keen on her. I'm sure Marigold will be as well."

"You're sure?" Isobel asked.

"Quite," Mary said, patting Isobel's arm. "Now, I have come on one other subject….which I suppose does deal with your coming to Downton more often."

"Oh? What is that?"

Mary took a deep breath. She had rehearsed this over and over in her head since speaking with Elizabeth, but now that it came to it, she found she didn't know where to start.

"Mary, are you all right?"

Isobel looked at the young woman, quite concerned, as Mary had grown very serious. She reached over and put her hand on top of Mary's.

"Mary?"

"Yes, forgive me, I'm fine. Lost in thought, I suppose," Mary said, waving away Isobel's concern.

"Goodness, you were quite serious," Isobel replied. She sat back, clasping her hands in her lap and waiting for Mary to continue.

"Yes…well, there has been quite a lot on my mind. Since you've brought up visiting George more often, it made me think how much he would enjoy that. He does love when he sees both you and Dickie. I know he'd be thrilled with you coming to stay at Downton for a few weeks."

"We would love that," Isobel said with a smile.

Mary nodded. "Yes…but, I am a bit concerned that it might be too much for you."

"Too much? Because of Lily?"

"No, not because of Lily. You may bring Nanny Roberts and we will have our Nanny as well," Mary said.

"Then I don't see how it could be too much," Isobel replied with a smile.

"Isobel…" Mary began tentatively, "…I've noticed little things. Perhaps because I know you've not been well…but this afternoon, I noticed how difficult it was for you during our walk."

Isobel sucked in her breath and sat a bit straighter. "Mary, I can assure you…"

Mary held up a hand. "Isobel, please, I do not mean to press you…but I want to make sure you able to see George as often as you'd like. And for that to happen, you need to be well."

"I am quite well," Isobel countered with a slight edge in her tone.

"I spoke with Elizabeth," Mary said, her eyes no longer meeting Isobel's. "She's told me you've been having trouble with your balance."

Isobel closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, attempting to control her frustration. She did not want to be having this conversation…least of all when she'd had such a nice afternoon reading to George. She gripped the edge of the dressing table and stood.

"Mary, I do appreciate your concern. But, Dr. Clarkson has things under control, and should I need something stronger to help with the symptoms, I'm sure he will provide the answer."

Mary looked up at Isobel, trying to remember not to come across harsh and domineering. Isobel would not take kindly to that.

"I'm sure he does. And I have every confidence that he is taking great care with your case. But, with your balance being as unsteady as it is, surely there is something to help when you are moving about throughout the day?"

"I'm sure I'll be just fine, dear," Isobel said dismissively, taking a few steps away from the dressing table towards the door. "Shall we head down to dinner?"

Mary stood but remained standing by the chair. "Isobel, I know you do not wish to use a cane…"

Isobel's face fell and her hands balled in to fists as she turned back to face Mary.

"But I think it is for the best. It is not a weakness on your part….moreover, it is helping to keep you strong and involved in the community and with the family."

"Mary, I…." Isobel's tone was harsh when she began and she immediately stopped herself, knowing Mary only meant well, "I'm sorry. I know you are concerned but I must go about this in my own way."

Mary sighed and took a few steps forward. "As you wish…but at least I've tried."

Quite out of character, she stepped forward, kissed Isobel on the cheek and gently squeezed her arm.

"Come, let's go before they worry after us," she said, smiling at Isobel and looping her mother-in-law's arm with hers.

Isobel, surprised at Mary's response, simply nodded as she was at a loss for words. She allowed Mary to lead her out of the room and down the hall, all the while wondering just what had happened to the stark, self-absorbed Mary Crawley of yesterday.


End file.
